


The Outlaw

by TheLittleImp



Series: Birds of a Feather [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-04-23 23:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 70,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleImp/pseuds/TheLittleImp
Summary: Surviving on the streets of Gotham was no small feat. Jason Todd knew the streets better than anyone. What he didn't know was that there was more to life than fear, anger and pain, until now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to AO3 so please bear with me while I figure this out. :)  
> I have an account on FF, but a guest reviewer suggested I get an AO3 account, so here I am.  
> I hope you enjoy the story.

The Outlaw

This was by far the stupidest thing Jason had done and that was saying something considering his past history of idiotic decisions. He’d gotten into the car of a complete stranger, a stranger who had every reason to beat him senseless. Sure, the stranger was Batman, but Jason was a thief, so where did that leave him?  
“Who takes care of you?” Batman growled from the driver’s seat. Whoever it was they were doing a poor job of it. There was no way Bruce could leave that kid starving in the streets. They were nearing a social services office.  
Jason almost flinched at the man’s voice. The Dark Knight had asked about his parents back in Crime Alley. When Jason explained that his mom was dead and his dad was in jail, Batman had ordered the eleven-year-old to get into the Batmobile.  
“Me, myself and I,” Jason answered, sarcastically. No matter how scared he was, he still had a big mouth and a disrespectful attitude. It helped hide the fear, but it tended to get him a few extra hits to the face.  
“Watch your tone,” Batman ordered.  
Jason looked down at the cell phone the Gotham Knight had given him. 911 had already been typed in. All he had to do was hit the call button if he thought for a moment that Batman would hurt him.  
They were starting to leave the city when Batman pulled over to the shoulder of the road. Jason glanced around quickly, and his finger moved closer to the call button. He’d known how much trouble he was in the moment the crime fighter had caught him stealing his tires, and he would have tried to make a run for it, but there was no way on earth he could outrun the Bat. Plus, it would have just made him angrier than he already was.  
“I can’t have you knowing where my base is,” Batman said shortly.  
The thief nodded his understanding. One of the first rules of doing something illegal was not letting everyone know where you hid out, and you couldn’t get much more illegal than running around the city in a mask, beating people up. Jason pulled his hood up, and seeing as the jacket was way too big for him, it covered most of his face. He rested his forehead on the dash, so Batman would see that he wasn’t trying to look out the windows.  
Bruce had thought Jay (He was debating whether or not that was the kid’s real name.) would have objected to this, but he was pleased when the boy didn’t argue with him. Batman continued driving, glancing at his passenger every once in a while, to make sure he wasn’t looking up. He got the feeling if he’d tried to blindfold Jay, he would have called the police. He wasn’t a trusting kid, and that was probably why he was still alive considering where he lived.  
Batman didn’t know why, but he couldn’t just drive away and leave this kid standing in a wet dark alley, shaking from cold and fear. Plus, there were bruises on his face, bad ones that left Bruce seriously concerned for his safety.  
Jason didn’t want to be there, but he hadn’t had any other options. It was starting to get colder, and he didn’t have anywhere to go other than a homeless shelter. The problem with that was someone would see a kid all alone and call CPS. He didn’t want to end up in a foster home. He was starting to fall asleep. It was so warm, and he was beginning to think Batman wasn’t going beat him to death for stealing his tires, not yet anyway. The Batmobile stopped suddenly, and the top slid back.  
“We’re here,” Batman said, jumping out of his car. He’d contacted Alfred, who’d disappeared from sight. Robin, on the other hand, was sitting at the Batcomputer waiting for Bruce and their guest.  
Jason looked up and found himself in a massive cave. He’d heard stories about what people thought Batman’s hideout was like, but none of them did the cave justice. He got out of the car and saw a boy a little older than himself. It was Robin. No one else dressed like a traffic light.  
“Hi, B. Who’s this? How was patrol? Did you catch Riddler?” The sugar high bird asked. He got up and let Batman have his chair back.  
“This is Jay. Patrol was fine, and yes, he’s back at Arkham,” Batman answered, patiently.  
“Hello, Jay. I’m Robin. It’s good to meet you,” Robin said, smiling. “If you can imagine, we don’t get many visitors, so why are you here?”  
“I don’t know,” Jason said, eyeing Batman, who was typing away at his computer.  
“What’s your full name?” Bruce asked, shortly. Maybe he could find some relatives of Jay’s, who’d be willing to take him.  
“Jason Peter Todd,” Jason answered. He didn’t see much point in lying. This was the World’s Greatest Detective after all, and lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He was in enough trouble as it was at the moment.  
Bruce had already found out everything there was to know about the young thief. There wasn’t much to know. His mom’s name was Sheila Todd. She’d died of a heroin overdose three years ago. His father, Peter Todd, was in jail for armed robbery and a bunch of other charges. Plus, he was suspected of child abuse. He also worked for Two-Face, and Dent’s goons had some of the worst reputations in the crime world. Joker’s men would have been more feared, but none of them lived long enough to make a name for themselves on the streets.  
Bruce quickly read the police report that the responding officer had filed. A neighbor living in the same apartment on the floor above Todd had called the police after hearing sounds of a fight and a child screaming. Peter had said it was just the TV. The officer had taken Jason aside and spoken to him, but he’d corroborated his father’s explanation. Judging by the eleven-year old’s face that was a lie. Long story short, Jason had had no one to turn to and nowhere to go. Bruce thought for several long moments before making up his mind. He’d have to talk to Alfred and see how Dick felt, but to him the choice was clear.  
“Robin, stay with Jason. I need to see Agent A for a minute,” Bruce said, going to the elevator.  
“Kay,” Dick said as Batman left. “So where are you from?” He asked, turning back to Jason.  
“Crime Alley, Park Row. Who’s Agent A?” Jason said. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He was just hoping to get back to the Alley in one piece.  
“He’s like Dr. Watson to Batman’s Sherlock Holmes. He takes care of us, the cave and our home,” Robin explained.  
Jason had a rough knowledge of Sherlock Holmes. He didn’t have a whole lot of time for reading, and there weren’t many opportunities to get a hold of books.  
Dick went over to the Batcomputer and looked over what Bruce had found out. He felt sorry for Jason, but he didn’t say anything. He got the impression Jason wouldn’t appreciate his pity.  
“What’s it like being Robin?” Jason asked. Despite what the other kids in the Alley said about the heroes, he thought the Boy Wonder was really cool and brave. He’d have to be brave to face Joker and work for Batman. Jason had heard what the Dark Knight had done to some people, and he wasn’t looking forward to his punishment.  
“It’s totally aster! Dangerous but aster,” Robin said, cheerfully.  
“Aster?” Jason asked, confused by the other boy’s nonsensical grammar.  
“Like the opposite of disaster,” Robin explained. “I had trouble understanding prefixes and suffixes. The whole English language is a nightmare.”  
“Guess you’re right. Some people in my building have trouble with that stuff. They’re from Germany, I think.” It took Jason a moment to realize that he struck closer to home than he’d intended to. Judging by Robin’s reaction, English wasn’t his first language and that was a clue to his identity. Jason didn’t want to know who was behind the mask, so he quickly changed the subject. “Did Batman cause that?” he asked, pointing to a deep bruise on Robin’s jaw.  
“Oh, no. I got in a fight with some Cobra fanatics and one of them got in a lucky hit. Batman would never hit me, you or any kid,” Dick told him, smiling.  
“Maybe not you, but I tried to steal his tires,” Jason pointed out with a frown.  
Robin laughed. “Really? What were you planning on doing with them?”  
“There’s a chop shop on Ash Street. I was going to sell the tires to them,” Jason answered. He would have gotten a lot for them. Bulletproof equipment was in high demand, especially since Thorn and Falcone were at each other’s throats. Their people were looking for any opportunity to knock off anyone on the other side, without dying themselves, of course.  
At that moment Batman returned. He called Robin over to the make-shift hospital in an out-of-the-way cavern of the cave. Jason remained by the computer, trying not to listen. He wanted nothing to do with this craziness. He had enough problems, and he was already headed for either the morgue or juvie. He was trying to decide which was worse. Gotham’s Juvenile Hall was a death sentence and considering how many enemies his dad had made, it was going to be a very brutal attack. He could hold his own in a fight, but he couldn’t be on guard 24/7. They’d get to him at some point. On the other hand, there was Batman. Getting beaten to death was kind of how he expected to go, only not from the Dark Knight. He’d last ten minutes, max.  
Bruce kept one eye on Jason while he spoke with Dick. “How would you feel if Jason stayed here, temporarily for now?” He wanted to save this child from the streets and giving him a warm and safe place to stay was a good start.  
“Are you serious? That would be so cool!” Dick said excitedly. Wayne Manor got quiet sometimes, even with Bruce and Alfred there. It would be fun to have someone his age to hang out with. Robin became sober suddenly. “What if he doesn’t want to stay?” They couldn’t very well force Jason to live at the Manor.  
“He doesn’t have anyone else, and he’s been living on the streets, so he doesn’t want to end up at a group home,” Bruce told Dick. Alfred had pointed out the same issues with the billionaire’s plan, but he had agreed it would be best for everyone involved. Plus, Batman had a plan if Jason wanted to leave.  
“Come on. Let’s tell him,” Dick said turning to go back to the small thief. This was another way they could save someone. He knew what happened to kids on the streets. Most of them ended up becoming criminals like their parents had been. The cycle would only repeat itself, but if he and Batman could save even one kid from that fate, how many more lives would be spared because of that?  
Jason looked up as Batman and Robin started walking towards him. He figured they’d been talking about him, and he didn’t really want to know the conclusion of their conversation. He doubted it had been pleasant. He just wanted to find something to eat, get warm, and go to sleep.  
Without warning Batman pulled his cowl back, revealing his face. Jason jumped and gasped in surprise. He dropped his head, and buried his face in his hands. He was so dead. They were going to kill him, or keep him locked up in the cave. He didn’t know which sounded like a more horrible torture. The worst thing was Jason recognized the Dark Knight. He was Bruce Wayne, billionaire, bachelor, philanthropist. Anyone who’d ever picked up a magazine or a newspaper knew who he was. This was not good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos! You guys are awesome.   
> So after writing most of this story I went back to double check the names of Jason's parents. In the comics his dad's name is Willis. Because I'm lazy and it would drive me insane it's staying 'Peter' for this story.   
> Thanks for reading. ^_^

“It’s okay, Jason,” Dick said quickly. He’d taken his mask off as well. “Come on,” he continued. He pried Jason’s hands away from his eyes. He was a good deal stronger than the thin street child. “I’m Dick Grayson, and this is my guardian, Bruce Wayne. We’d like you to stay here with us and Agent A. His name is Alfred.”  
Jason didn’t know what to say to that or how to react to any of this. He was too scared to try to think of anything. Why would they want him? He was nothing more than a thief from Crime Alley, and no one in their right mind wanted someone like him around. Second: Bruce Wayne was Batman! Well, rich people were supposed to be eccentric, right? And he did have the money and the time, after all.   
“Would you like that, Jason?” Bruce asked, gently. If the child said ‘no’, he’d get Martian Manhunter to erase the thief’s memories of this event, but Bruce didn’t want that. He wanted Jason to stay. He was just a poor scared kid, who was alone in the world and Bruce could help him.   
Jason just nodded. He’d returned his gaze to the floor the moment he could. He needed time to think about all this. Where had he gotten the idea it was a good plan to steal from Batman? Honestly, what was wrong with him? He should have just kept walking when he saw the large black vehicle. He would have been better off. Batman would never have known he even existed. Now, he was a prisoner. He really was a moron.  
“This doesn’t have to be your final decision. You can take as much time as you need to make up your mind,” Bruce continued. He didn’t know if Jason’s nod had been a conscious choice or he was just responding to hearing his name. He seemed shocked and really freaked out. Who could blame him?  
Jason merely nodded again. He still held the cell phone tightly in his hands. Maybe he should call the police then and there. But Batman had given him this phone, so there was no way it would actually work. No one knew where he was or that he was even gone. A few of the other street kids and some other people who knew him would wonder what had happened, but it wasn’t like they would try to find out or inform the police that some kid who had run away from his home and had a record had disappeared. He was trapped, and it was his own fault. He should have just run the moment Batman had found him.  
“Dick, why don’t you take Jason upstairs and show him to the room next to yours?” Bruce suggested. He needed to turn his attention to double checking Jason’s record. He might have some family that would be interested in being a part of his life, but given the circumstances and the conditions Jason was living in, Batman found that highly unlikely.   
Dick nodded, a smile on his face. He took Jason by the arm and led him up to the Manor. He told the other boy about the huge house as they walked. It wasn’t long before the two of them reached the second floor. Robin guided Jason to the left wing, where most of the members of the household’s bedrooms were located.  
“That’s Mr. and Mrs. Wayne’s old room, that’s Bruce’s, that’s mine and this one is yours,” Dick said, opening a door next to his own and across and one down from Bruce’s.  
Jason’s face registered shock at the massive house and at his room. It was amazing, and he even had his own bathroom. Everything was moving way too fast, and his mind was in serious overload. Why were these people helping him? Last he checked he’d tried to steal from them or was everyone ignoring that fact? He didn’t see what they had to gain from this, and no one did anything unless they got something out of it. So, what was there to get?  
“Wait till you meet Alfred. He’s really nice, and he makes the best food. Oh, are you hungry?” Dick rattled on. He could see that wild deer caught in the headlights expression that was in Jason’s big eyes. His blue eyes were big as it was, but his face was hollow and thin, making his eyes appear larger and his cheekbones stand out. Robin had seen a lot of pain and suffering over the years, but that didn’t mean he got used to it or didn’t want to help.  
Jason nodded. When was the last time he’d eaten? It was the night before. He’d hadn’t been able to find anything so he’d gone to a restaurant and waited behind the building for the garbage boys to throw out the uneaten food. He’d gotten a decent meal for his patience. One of the guys hadn’t even thrown the food in the dumpster; he’d just given it to him. It had still been warm to top it off. Jason had learned to never pass up food. He didn’t know where he’d get his next meal, and one can’t be picky on the streets.   
There was a knock at the door, and Dick told whoever it was to come it. A tall thin man dressed in a suit walked in. He was holding a stack of clothes. He set them down on the bed, carefully.  
“Hello. You must be Master Jason. I am Alfred Pennyworth, the butler,” the man said, politely in an English accent. “We are happy to welcome you here.”  
“Thanks,” Jason said, awkwardly. He’d met some odd people on the streets, but none like the three in this house. Why was this guy calling some street rat ‘Master’? It was so weird.   
“Now, get cleaned up and then come down to the kitchen. I will have something for you to eat. Master Dick will show you the way,” Alfred said, kindly before walking out of the room.  
Jason pulled off his red, muddy jacket and turned to go into the bathroom, when he heard Dick gasp. That’s when Jason remembered his back. The night before his father was arrested he’d gotten more drunk than usual and whipped him with a belt. It hurt, but the fear of the past hour had pushed the pain to the back of his mind, leaving only a dull ache. He spun around, his cheeks red. He was wearing the same white t-shirt he had then. He didn’t know how bad it looked, but it must be pretty bad, judging by the look on Dick’s face. He was Robin after all so he must have seen some messed up stuff.   
“Jason, stay here. I’m going to get Bruce and Alfred.” Dick quickly left the room.  
Jason was about to go to the bathroom, but he stopped. Instead he went over to the bed and pulling out a gun from the waistband of his pants, he hid it under the pillow. He was surprised Dick hadn’t noticed the outline of the weapon, but he guessed his bloody t-shirt had distracted the hero from that. He also hid a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. That gun was the only way he could protect himself, and there was no way Batman would let a criminal keep it.  
Jason then walked into the bathroom and got a look at his back in the long mirror. His shirt was torn in several places. Through those places he could see gashes, deep bruises, welts and dried blood. Seeing it brought back the pure helplessness and terror of his dad’s drunken rampage. He hated that feeling, and he hated his father for everything he’d done to him.  
Jason heard the bedroom door being opened and the others walked in. He was tempted to close the door and lock it. He didn’t want anyone to know that he hadn’t been able to protect himself or even get away. It wouldn’t do any good though. It wouldn’t keep the Dark Knight out, so he didn’t bother.   
“What happened?” Bruce asked, anger in his voice. He stood in the doorway, his frame filling the space like a wall. He stepped in and took a first aid kit out from under the vanity.  
“It’s called life,” Jason answered. He didn’t want to go into it, but he didn’t dare lie. That would just make things worse. Wayne was the World’s Greatest Detective after all, and there was no way a thief and sometimes drug courier was going to get away with lying to him.  
“Can you take your shirt off?” Bruce asked. He was struggling to keep his anger in check. How could someone do this to a child? He’d worked hundreds of cases involving child abuse, and he could never imagine being angry enough to beat a kid. This only confirmed his decision in bringing the would-be thief home.  
Jason did as he was asked, hissing in pain as the torn excuse of a shirt came off. There were other scars on the kid, old and new. Bruce even spotted some cigarette burns on his arms. That sick twisted freak! Todd was going to get some of what he had dished out. It was easy to get to someone in county holding, and it might bring him at least a small bit of satisfaction.   
“Alfred, there’s no hydrogen peroxide in here,” Bruce said, shortly. He’d set the kit on the counter and opened it. He was trying to go over what he knew about the emotional trauma that came with this severe level of abuse. Abuse was one of those things that never went away. It was always there.  
“I will get it, sir,” Alfred said and hurried away.  
Dick stayed in the room and out of the way. Besides he’d seen enough carnage to last him a lifetime. He didn’t want to see any more if he didn’t have to.  
“Bend over,” Bruce ordered. He needed to stop sounding mad, or Jason would think that the rage was directed at him and he’d received more anger than anyone should ever know.  
Jason rested his arms and head on the counter. The tile was jarringly cold on his skin. He wanted to get away from these people. Wayne sounded like he was on the verge of losing his temper, and he could only imagine what a raging Batman was like. Maybe his dad on crack would be an accurate description. One thing was for sure, there was no chance on earth he would be able to take another beating like the last one.  
Alfred returned with a large brown bottle.   
“This is going to hurt,” Bruce warned him as he poured some of the peroxide on a piece of cotton. “Try to hold still.” Thankfully the lashes looked worse than they actually were. They weren’t overly deep, but they were starting to get infected.   
Jason braced himself for the stinging pain that came a moment later. He gasped and almost jerked away, but getting the stripes had hurt more than this. He had taken that so he could handle this without showing how much it really hurt.  
“I’m sorry, but I have to get them clean. I want you to tell me how this happened,” Bruce said in a steady voice. Well, he didn’t sound quite like he was going to rip someone’s head off this time.  
“My old man came home, like four nights ago. I usually find somewhere else to sleep, but it was bad out. I fell asleep on the couch. When he walked in, he just started hitting me with his belt,” Jason answered. He stared fixedly at the floor, his head still resting on the sink. He had tried to climb out the window, but his dad had caught his ankle and dragged him back into that torture hole.  
“What about that time that officer came. Why did you say it was the TV?” Bruce asked. That had been a few months ago. What horrors had he endured that time or the many times before that? He was almost done cleaning the wounds. Jason would have some awful scars.   
“He was the only person I had. I didn’t want to lose him too. Plus, he said he’d beat me worse if I did,” Jason explained. He must sound so pathetic and weak.  
“How long has this been going on?” Bruce asked as he put a bandage on one of the longer gashes. The burning red welts were making him sick to look at. He had seen more terrible things than this, but it was getting to him. He got no response to his question and honestly, he wasn’t surprised. Jason had been more forthcoming than he’d expected given the situation. “That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. You’re all done.”  
Jason raised his head. “Thanks.” There was the least little touch of sarcasm to his voice. Normally, Bruce wouldn’t put up with that, but it was clearly just a defense mechanism. Jason felt vulnerable so he was going to protect himself anyway he could.  
Alfred handed him a clean shirt. He picked up the white one to throw it away. He smelled sweat, blood, alcohol and smoke on the piece of material. He couldn’t put into words his abhorrence for this kind of treatment of anyone, especially a child. Children were precious gifts that were to be treasured and cared for, not beaten into submissive fear. He wondered briefly if Master Jason’s spirit had been broken by this treatment. He hoped not. With time and care he might come to recover to some extent, but that was too far off to tell.  
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Bruce asked seriously. He got the feeling Jason wouldn’t tell him if he thought he could get away with it.  
Jason shook his head. There were just a few bruises, but they weren’t worth mentioning. He was used to being sore from beatings. It seemed like whenever he was finally getting over one, he got another one.  
“Alright. Get something to eat, then to bed,” Bruce ordered. He went down to his office and called Dr. Leslie Thompkins. She’d gone to medical school with his father and was one of the few who knew his secret. She was also still at her free clinic at the edge of the Alley. She didn’t shut her doors as long as she could help someone.   
“Hello, Bruce. It’s a little late for a social call. What can I help you with?” Leslie answered, warmly. She was used to coming to the Manor at odd hours to put Bruce or Dick back together. Alfred could handle most things, but an extra pair of hands always helped.  
Bruce explained the evening’s events. He was still a bit surprised at his actions. He would have expected himself to take Jason to social services and hand him off to them, but he just hadn’t been able to drop that kid off and let him sink or swim. He had no one and the person that was supposed to love and protect him had damaged him so severely he would never fully recover from it. He would carry the scars his whole life.  
“Why don’t you bring him in tomorrow and I’ll take a look at him?” Leslie suggested. She wasn’t surprised in the least that Bruce had found another stray. He didn’t trust anyone but himself to save someone and from the sound of it, Jason definitely needed saving. “I have an opening at eleven thirty.”  
“That works for me,” Bruce answered. “Thank you, Leslie.” After hanging up he went down to the cave and put on his cape and cowl for one final task before he turned in for the night. He drove into Gotham at treacherous speeds. He reached county holding in record time. The doors were opened to him without hesitation.  
“Who is it this time?” a guard asked. He was unfazed by Batman’s sudden appearance. He came there a lot to speak to suspects in police custody.   
“Peter Todd,” Batman growled. Todd had been one of Two-Face’s hired muscle for years, so it wasn’t odd for the Dark Knight to see him. He had a clear motive to be there; that would cover up his true purpose.   
A few minutes later Todd was brought from his cell and Batman was sitting across from him in a small out of the way room where it would be harder to hear the screaming. Todd was a large man, with black hair, like his son’s. His eyes were bloodshot, and he showed signs of alcohol withdrawal. One thing that caught Bruce’s attention was his bruised knuckles. Had that happened while he was beating his child? Jason was so small and had had no way to defend himself. Batman’s anger rose up violently, wanting retaliation.  
“What do you want, Freak?” Todd spat out. There was an attitude of condescension and arrogance. He thought he couldn’t be touched in there. Batman had a code after all; he wouldn’t attack an unarmed man.  
“Information,” Bruce answered. He’d start by breaking every one of Todd’s fingers.   
“No one rats out Two-Face and lives,” Todd answered. The crime boss would flip that coin of his and even if the untarnished side came up, he’d still find a way around what he’d said about letting his victim live. Todd had stood by and witnessed this many times. He knew how to survive Two-Face’s sick games.  
That’s what Bruce wanted to hear. It gave him the excuse he was looking for. Twenty minutes passed, then thirty. The guards were beginning to get nervous. They couldn’t very well have a body on their hands. Suddenly the door opened and Batman strode out, blood on his gloved hands and splattered across the bat on his chest.   
“Take him to the infirmary,” Bruce ordered as he went passed the guards. Some of the rage in him had been quenched for the time being.


	3. Chapter 3

Back at the Manor, Dick and Jason were sitting at the kitchen table, eating cookies and milk. Alfred was at the sink, washing the dishes from supper.   
“What’s it like living here?” Jason asked. He wanted to know just what kind of mess he’d gotten himself into. So far Alfred was the only one who didn’t appear completely insane. Plus, he had given him food, which made the butler almost faultless in Jason’s book.  
“It’s great. Bruce is an awesome foster dad, and Alfred’s like a grandfather to me,” Dick answered.  
“I take that as quite the compliment, young sir” Alfred said from the sink.  
Jason knew better than to blindly trust what anyone said, but he didn’t really have anything else to go on. He wondered how hard it would be to sneak out of this place and back to Gotham. Batman probably had everything for ten square miles decked out in traps and alarms, so that was very unlikely to work.  
The two of them finished their snack and headed to bed. Jason didn’t go to sleep at all. He sat in his room and waited for the first light of morning. He didn’t want to have any nightmares and wake the others. At one point in the night he heard someone in the hall. The steps were too heavy to be Dick or Alfred, which left Bruce. He had disappeared after patching up Jason. He must have gone out ‘Batmanning’.   
There was a set of French doors in his room that led out onto a balcony. Jason stepped through them as the stars were starting to disappear. A few yards away there was a large tree with its branches reaching out. For a few minutes, he considered trying to make the jump. Jason knew he could do it, but what then? There was a tall stone wall all around the Wayne grounds and this was Batman after all. It wasn’t going to be that easy. Plus, what did he have to go back to? He lived under bridges, in subway stations, in abandoned buildings and on the street. What would he give to live the good life? Well, he wasn’t going to be beaten any more. If Wayne wanted a new punching bag he could take a hike. Jason would go back to starving in the streets before he ever let anyone hurt him again. He looked up at the rapidly vanishing constellations as he took out a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled deeply before blowing a cloud into the air.   
Around six he heard someone walking around downstairs. He had to wander through the Manor for some time before he was able to find Alfred who was making breakfast.   
“Good morning, Master Jason. Did you sleep well?” Alfred asked, almost without looking up from his work. He thought he smelled smoke for a moment, but the scent quickly faded.   
Jason shrugged. “Why do you call me ‘Master’? Last I checked I’m a kid from Crime Alley,” he pointed out. He didn’t understand why the older man was making such a fuss.   
“I have worked for the Wayne family since before Master Bruce was born. The Waynes have been good to me and I have always been respectful to them. You are now a member of the family, and you will be treated like a Wayne,” Alfred explained. He opened a cupboard in search of the salt. He found it and saw the peanut butter. “By the way, Master Jason are you allergic to anything?” Once Dick had brought home a friend who had a horrible peanut allergy, and he had almost given the child something with the nut in it. Now, whenever they had a guest he checked for allergies before serving them anything. He would feel dreadful if he gave the young master something that would harm him.  
“No,” Jason answered, flatly. “It’s not like I really had a choice in becoming part of this family, if it can even be called that,” he said going back to what Alfred had said before. He sat down at the large island. He was so tired. There hadn’t been many times he’d stayed awake for a whole day and a night. It was making his head clouded.  
Alfred turned to look over at him. “Of course, you have a choice. Do you honestly think Master Bruce would keep you here against your will?”  
“Well, he can’t really let me leave. I know who he is,” Jason said, looking out a window to see hedges and flower gardens. The sky was clear for once, but that wasn’t likely to last, not this time of year. Soon the flowers would freeze and die. He might as well be locked up in the cave.  
“You are not a prisoner, Master Jason. There are ways to make you forget what you saw. Master Bruce would see to it that you had a good place to live if you wish to leave,” Alfred told him, seriously. They would never get anywhere in earning the young master’s trust if he saw himself as a hostage. Judging from the expression on Jason’s face he didn’t believe him. “Have you ever heard of Martian Manhunter?” Jason nodded. “He would easily be able to make the knowledge of the Dark Knight’s identity a mystery to you. So, you see, you are free to stay or go as you please,” Alfred said as he set a plate in front of the eleven year old. “Once you are finished, please go to your room and get cleaned up. You have an appointment with Dr. Thompkins this morning.”  
“Why do I need to see a doctor? You and Wayne can take care of my back,” Jason said. He had always hated going to see the doctor, even when his mom was alive and when they had had no other choice.   
Jason started eating slowly. He didn’t want to make himself sick. Plus, then it would be longer before he had to go get ready. Maybe if he stalled long enough he wouldn’t have to go at all.  
“When was the last time you were vaccinated or had a checkup?” Alfred questioned. He was trying to make a point. Judging by the condition Jason was in, it had been years since he’d seen a doctor. No practicing physician could in good conscience let a child with such extensive scarring walk out of their office.   
Jason shrugged. “Don’t remember.” He must have been five or six, before his dad started drinking more, and his mom’s drug use got worse. Their lives had all spiraled out of control when he was about eight. His dad had started working for Two-Face, and his mom’s drug addiction had gone from popping pills, then weed, then LSD, and lastly heroin. Jason remembered that at one time she wouldn’t let him see her using. After a year or so of heavy using she’d stopped caring and by the end he was cleaning up her needles while she laid on the floor and stared at the ceiling of their shabby apartment room with glassy eyes. It was her way of escaping her abusive husband, crying child, and horrible living environment. Jason understood wanting to get away from Peter, but he’d never used that as a way out. Every day was a battle for survival and each day he lived was a battle Jason won. He wasn’t just going to slip away in some dark alley, while the rest of the world passed him by. He was stronger than that.  
Sometime later Jason sat next to Bruce in one of Gotham’s free clinics. He knew the area, which made him feel slightly better, but not by much. Wayne made him nervous as did hospitals.  
“Jason,” a nurse called. Why did she have to say it like he was being called to answer for some crime? He wanted to get out of there. He and Bruce went into the back room, where the nurse got his height and weight. “Mr. Wayne, I noticed there wasn’t much filled out in family history. Do you know of a previous doctor we could contact?”  
Bruce looked down at Jason. “Dad only went to one of the gang doctors, so they wouldn’t report his being shot and all,” he answered shortly. “And I don’t remember if Mom saw anyone.”  
The nurse smiled down at him. “Perhaps you can tell me if your mom had any diseases.”   
“Don’t know. I don’t think she knew either,” Jason answered. He really hated this. It was normal to know that stuff and he didn’t. For some reason that made him feel inferior, but he was, wasn’t he? He was street trash and that was it.  
“Do you know your blood type?” the nurse asked, hopefully. They could easily run a blood test, but if the kid knew it already it would be helpful in case there was an emergency.   
“Yeah, I have the red kind,” Jason retorted, sarcastically. Thankfully that put an end to the nurse trying to get information from him.  
“Dr. Thompkins will be with you in a moment,” she said before shutting the door.  
Jason looked around the small room. There was a chair against one wall, and Bruce was sitting in it. There was a desk built into the wall across from Bruce, with a little black chair next to it. Jason was sitting on a high table that had a leather covering, which stuck to his skin. He noticed that Bruce looked as if he was trying not to laugh.  
“What’s so funny?” Jason demanded. He didn’t see anything amusing about this. Was it because he hadn’t known the answers to the nurse’s questions? He turned red with embarrassment. He’d never been ashamed of things like that before. It was just the way his world was, but now comparing it to the life Wayne led he clearly had a lot to feel humiliated for.  
“What you said about the blood,” Bruce answered. Granted, Jason should be more respectful, but he was just trying to keep up the walls that he’d built to protect himself. Plus, the kid was kind of cute in a sassy way. Maybe someday he would be more comfortable showing that wild spirit that was lurking just below the surface of that cold and indifferent façade.  
Jason couldn’t stop tapping his foot. It was a nervous habit, that his father had hated. Bruce on the other hand didn’t seem to mind it in the least. Why did he have to be there? He was fine. He wanted to beg Wayne to let him leave, but the man had been patient as it was and he didn’t want to push his luck. Wayne might be one of those types that acted all nice one second, and then beat the living crap out of someone the next. The woman in the apartment next door had been like that. Jason had learned to give her a wide berth. She was liable to lose it at the drop of a hat.  
“Are you alright?” Bruce asked, causing Jason to jump. The pre-teen nodded, but made no verbal response. “Dr. Thompkins is a wonderful doctor as well as a good friend,” Bruce said, gently. Growing up doctors hadn’t bothered him because his father was one, but he had found that Dick didn’t like them, and he assumed the same was true for Jason who still hadn’t said a word. Suddenly the door was opened, and a lady with gray hair pulled back in a bun walked in.  
“Hello. You must be Jason. I’m Dr. Thompkins. How are you today?” the lady said. She looked at him before glancing over her tablet.   
“I’d rather be at the bottom of the Gotham River than here, but other than that I’m good,” Jason deadpanned, without thinking. He could have slapped himself for saying that. Adults didn’t like it when he said things like that, but Dr. Thompkins just laughed.  
“I’m sure many of my patients feel that way, but you’re the first to say it,” the doctor told him, with a kind smile on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

This was the first doctor’s appointment Jason remembered having in a long time, and he hated it more than he thought he would. He didn’t like people looking at his scars and how thin he was, he hated the light that was shone in his eyes, and he hated being poked and prodded to no end.  
“Well, Jason, I’m a little worried about your weight, but other than that you’re very healthy. What do you usually eat?” Leslie asked. She needed to ask him about the blatant abuse he’d suffered, but she thought it was best if she led up to that.  
Jason looked at the floor and shrugged. “Whatever I can find.” That was the nice way of saying, ‘garbage’. He ate food he found in the dumpster. What did she think he ate? Did she want him to say it? He was used to the mind games his dad employed to make him feel helpless, weak and less than dirt.  
“And what about all these scars?” Leslie asked as gently as she could.  
Jason didn’t answer. How was he supposed to tell her what his father had done? Every time he turned his thoughts to the hours of torture he’d experienced, he found it hard to breathe. He could hear the drunken voice of his dad taunting him, he could smell the beer, and he could feel the searing pain of being hit or kicked.  
“Alright. How about you tell me about just one? Like that one through your eyebrow.” Leslie suggested. Running through Jason’s right eyebrow there was a short yet deep scar that looked like it had been made with a knife.  
Jason could do that, but he stopped himself. “Doctors aren’t allowed to tell people things their patients say, right?” he asked.   
“That’s right,” Leslie told him, seriously. That could be the way to earning his trust.  
“I was carrying a meth supply to one of Two-Face’s dealers when four guys jumped me. One of them cut me with a knife when I fought back. Turned out one of Two-Face’s men had told one of his buddies how my dad was lazy cause he made me take care of his deliveries, and he had gotten the idea to steal the meth from me,” Jason explained. The blood had run into his eye, and for a few minutes he had thought the thug had sliced his eye. Luckily, no one blamed him for the mess, and the guy who’d run his mouth disappeared. The rumor was he was in a landfill. He turned his hard-blue eyes on Bruce, and silently threatened to expose him as the masked vigilante if he told anyone about the fact that he was a drug courier. If he’d gotten caught by the police they would have charged him with a felony with how much he’d had on him.  
“Is there any more you’d like to tell me about?” Leslie asked. She hoped that once Jason opened up, it would all come out, but the thief only shook his head. “That’s perfectly fine. The cuts on your back are at risk for infection. I’m going to give you some antibiotics and something to help with the pain. I’ll be right back,” Thompkins said, standing up. She did come back, with a nurse and to Jason’s horror the nurse was holding three shots. He looked at Bruce for help, but quickly looked away. Who was he kidding? Wayne wasn’t going to help. He had to take care of himself. No one else was going to.   
The nurse rolled up his sleeve. Jason started trembling. Bruce came over and stood beside him. It only made the eleven-year old feel more trapped. He wanted to get out and away from there. The nurse rubbed peroxide on his shoulder. When Jason felt the needle, he screamed louder than he thought was humanly possible.   
The ride back to Wayne Manor was extremely silent. Jason couldn’t stop shaking. His breathing kept catching in his throat, and the world around him was made hazy by his tears.   
“Jason, it’s okay. I know it hurt, and your arm will be sore for a few days,” Bruce said trying to be comforting. He hadn’t thought Jason would freak out like that. Cleaning his cuts last night would have hurt worse, and he’d barely made a sound then. He’d planned on taking Jay to social services after his appointment with Leslie, but with how shaken up the thief was, Bruce had changed his mind. Jason was scared enough as it was. There was no need to make it worse.   
They pulled up in front of the Manor. Jason jumped out of the car before it came to a complete stop and ran inside. Bruce followed him and found the child in the bathroom off the kitchen, sitting on the floor, crying hysterically. He sat down across from him, trying not to look threatening, but he doubted that was possible. In Jay’s eyes, everyone was an imminent threat.   
“Why did you let them do that?” Jason sobbed. He’d started to think Bruce might actually be different from his parents, but Wayne was as cruel as Jason’s father and as uncaring as his mother. How did these horrible people find him? No matter where he went they found him.   
“It was only a few vaccinations,” Bruce said. He was at a loss as to what the problem was, but then he remembered Sheila’s drug use. “Jay, did your mom shoot up around you?”  
The question confused Jason for a moment. He raised his tear covered cheeks. “Well, yeah.” What did that have to do with anything. Wayne had just betrayed him and the man wanted to know about a dead woman’s drug habits? “I made sure she didn’t hurt herself, and I put away her needles when she was done.” He wanted to go upstairs and hide in his room. He was drained and needed a smoke to calm down. He had to get himself together. He shouldn’t be losing it like this, especially not in front of Wayne. Then the ‘hero’ would think he’d won.  
“What do you think was in those shots?” Bruce asked. He knew Sheila had used, so why hadn’t he realized that would scare Jason. For the World’s Greatest Detective, he sure had his dense moments particularly when it came to the emotions of the children in his care.   
“Heroin,” Jason answered in a broken whisper. He remembered the night his mom had died. Her breathing had gotten shallower and shallower until it had stopped all together. Then their rat-infested apartment was intensely still, like even the usually loud things living in the walls had known what had happened and gone mute for the death of one more addict, who’d lost the battle. Every detail was etched into his memory.  
Batman was mentally beating himself. No wonder Jason panicked. He probably thought Bruce was a monster. “It wasn’t drugs. I’d never make anyone take heroin, especially not you or Dick. Those shots were to keep you from getting sick. Okay?” He was desperate to get Jay to believe him, but, why should he? Trust was a hard thing to earn and that was doubly true for Jason. His mother hadn’t gotten help, which had left Jason in the sole care of his father, who was clearly a sadistic freak. No one had ever given him a reason to trust them.  
Jason nodded miserably. He wanted to believe that, but part of him didn’t. What Bruce said made sense though, right? They had put the needle in the muscle of his arm, not the vein. Plus, he didn’t feel high, but he didn’t know what being high felt like. He’d made sure to never ingest any of his mom’s drugs. He’d seen how helpless it made her and that vulnerability frightened him to no end. He was defenseless as it was without that stuff making it worse.  
“Now, let’s get you some lunch. Alfred will be home soon, and Dick will be back from school around 3:30,” Bruce said as he got to his feet. He fixed the former street kid a plate and one for himself from last night’s leftovers. The two of them sat down at the kitchen table across from each other. “What grade are you in?” Bruce asked after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, save for Jason’s occasional sniffs. He had never been good at getting to know people. He could do the whole happy, go lucky ‘Brucie’ act, but he didn’t want to be fake when it came to people he genuinely wanted to know and understand.   
Jason shrugged. “I dropped out after third grade.” There wasn’t time for school in the Alley. Most kids were too busy just trying to make it through that day to worry about an education and a lot of them didn’t care. What future did they have to strive for anyway? They were just going to end up like their parents.  
Bruce frowned. “I think we should find a tutor to help you catch up. Then you’ll go to Gotham Academy.” The Academy was the best prep school in that part of the country. Jason was clearly intelligent. He only needed the right tools to expand his knowledge to more than just street smarts.  
It was Jason’s turn to frown. He didn’t much like the idea of a tutor or school. The school he’d gone to had been nothing but a breeding ground for drugs and gangs. Plus sitting at a desk half the day was boring. He could do some math, read and write. That was enough in his opinion, but he couldn’t really say anything though. He wasn’t in a position to argue with Wayne. He’d already pushed Batman’s patience more than anyone else would have put up with. At this point the Bat might lose his temper, and Jason didn’t desire to be on the receiving end of his anger. Dick had said Batman would never hit them, but there was no way Jason would put that statement to the test. He was sore enough as it was.  
Bruce was making a mental list of everything he needed to do to get Jason settled in. He had to file for custody, take Jay shopping, get him in to see a dentist and maybe a therapist and find him a tutor. He glanced down at the kid, who’s usually pale face was looking a little green.  
“Are you alright?” Batman asked, worry laced his voice. Those sad, scared eyes reminded him so much of Dick and there was something else in them, a wild yet faraway look that stated loudly he wasn’t going to be broken by anything the world threw at him. He was alive because he wasn’t weak, and he’d fight to stay among the living.   
“I think I ate too much too fast,” Jason answered. He knew he had to be careful. He’d been living on what he could find for himself, which wasn’t much. Once he’d found half a pizza in a dumpster. It had just been thrown out. He’d made the mistake of eating it quickly. He hadn’t been able to keep it down for long. Now, when he ate his stomach would get upset, so he had to watch it.   
Bruce hadn’t thought of that when he had gotten the leftovers out. Leslie told him to make sure Jason ate what he wanted, when he wanted it, within reason of course. So, he’d filled the plate without realizing the fragile state Jason’s body was in after his time with his father and on the streets.   
“Let’s get you on the couch.” He led Jason to the family room and got the eleven-year old on set up on the couch with a movie, a blanket and a bowl. “Do you need anything?” Jason shook his head. “Okay, I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Bruce said, before walking across the hall.  
Jason sat comfortably, watching The Gray Ghost. It was an old black and white TV series. He didn’t watch TV much, because the old TV in the apartment didn’t work all the time and when it was working his dad was watching, which meant Jason was hiding out in his room or on the fire escape. There was a time when his mom had sat with his dad. Jason remembered standing in the doorway and seeing the lights sending strange shadows dancing over their faces and the small kitchen behind them. Then his mom was gone, and his dad had found a girlfriend, Kate. Jason shuddered as the image of Kate’s kind face flashed before his eyes. He focused on the large screen, trying to forget about Kate and everything that had happened.


	5. Chapter 5

Some time passed in relative quiet. Jason could hear Bruce’s phone ring once in a while. He could hear the billionaire’s voice making deals and discussing plans for his company. Everything was so calm and peaceful. It made Jason wonder what he would have been like if he’d always lived here. He wouldn’t be the scared lonely child that he was. He hated feeling like there was something wrong with him. So, he didn’t have a happy life, big deal. He knew what the world was like. He knew what it meant to have someone else hold his life in their hands and throw it away as being worthless. He was tougher than any of the rich snobs at that school Wayne had been talking about.   
Alfred came home and went into the kitchen to start dinner. Dick got home too, but he couldn’t hang out. He had to go up to his room and do his homework, which there was a lot of.  
“I don’t care what you’re offering, Luther! I’m not having anything to do with your company and that’s final!” Jason heard Bruce shout. He flinched when the phone was slammed down loudly. There were a few seconds of silence then Bruce walked into the room. He sat down on the couch next to Jason. The business man looked annoyed, but his features relaxed soon, which did absolutely nothing to soothe Jason’s nerves or calm his racing heart.   
The thief wanted to get out of that room, but he didn’t dare move. That would only draw attention to himself, which would be very bad. It took Jason a moment to realize that he was holding his breath. He slowly started to slip off the couch. If he could get to the door, he stood a chance of hopefully finding a place to hide.   
Wayne looked over at him and Jason froze. “Is something wrong?” Bruce asked. He could read the terrified body language that Jason was showing. It seemed a little odd. Had he done something wrong again? Well, he was on a roll, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he’d done something else to set Jason off. He had no way of knowing what his triggers were. To put it simply, the kid was a human landmine.  
Jason shook his head. He couldn’t really say. ‘Yes. I’m completely terrified of you.’ That probably wouldn’t go over well. Wayne was already in a bad mood, judging by that phone call.   
Batman raised an eyebrow. “Jason, I don’t want you lying to me ever. Now, what’s wrong?”   
“Y-you sounded mad,” the eleven-year old said, barely above a whisper. He was ready to make a run for the door, not that he was going to get very far, but he wasn’t just going to sit there and take it.  
“That was a business call, and I wasn’t mad. Luther doesn’t take hearing ‘no’ very well, so I had to be adamant,” Bruce explained. It seemed he was making things worse at every turn. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you because of that?” he asked. He wanted Jay to open up to him, but that wasn’t going to happen if he felt threatened all the time. He still didn’t know everything Jason had been through, and he honestly wasn’t expecting to find out any time soon. There was only so much he could learn about Jay by reading reports. He needed the whole story if he was going to be able to help the young thief.  
“Dad would have,” Jason said, shutting his eyes tightly, wishing the picture of his father’s face would disappear from his head. His dad hadn’t needed a reason to beat him. It was just what he did. Jason used to try to be good so his dad wouldn’t get mad at him, but that hadn’t changed a thing. After a while he stopped being good. He was too weary to care. He only had to take each day as it was and get through it with as few bruises as possible.  
“I want you to listen very carefully,” Bruce began, seriously. “I’m not anything like Peter. I’m your foster dad, or at least I will be. That means you’re going to have a social worker assigned to you. If you ever feel unsafe all you have to do is tell her or him,” he explained. He hoped knowing that would help somewhat.   
“Yeah right. Like anyone is going to listen to some thief over Bruce Wayne,” Jason scoffed, miserably. He was surprised Wayne was taking the time to talk to him.   
“I won’t force you to stay here, particularly if you’re unhappy,” Bruce told him. Alfred had spoken to him that morning about what Jason had said to the older man at breakfast.   
“That’s what Al said,” Jason said. While now he knew that everything he told the butler would get back to Batman. He should have kept his mouth shut. He knew better than that.  
“You don’t believe him?” Bruce asked. He knew Jay didn’t believe anything anyone said.  
“People always lie,” Jason answered. He’d pulled his knees up to his chest and was staring at the floor. His mom had said she’d quit using. Yeah that had turned out real well. His dad had said they would be okay after Mom died. That was not what had happened. The guys who had stolen the drugs from him had said they wouldn’t hurt him. He’d been slashed seven times with a switchblade. He could come up with examples all day.  
“Well, Alfred never does, and I try to avoid doing it,” Bruce said. He couldn’t think of any way to get Jason to accept what he was saying.   
“You’re Batman. Your whole life is a lie,” Jason pointed out, almost mockingly.  
“Not really. I just show different parts of who I am depending on the people I’m around,” Bruce said, thoughtfully. Even his ‘Brucie’ act wasn’t a complete act. He enjoyed some of the parties he went to, even if he made Alfred think he hated it.  
“Sure, just keep telling yourself that,” Jason said, rolling his eyes. Wayne was delusional if he thought any part of his life was genuine.   
“You may not believe me, but if you want to leave and things don’t work out, I’ll find you a good place to live,” Bruce said.   
“Okay,” Jason answered with a shrug. ‘Things’ probably meant him messing up. Well, he may get kicked out, but he was planning on taking some of the silver with him. He noticed Wayne left his wallet lying around. It would get a good deal lighter if he kept that up.   
“Now, I expect you to tell me the truth at all times and I will try to be honest with you. Sound fair?” Bruce said. Maybe he was getting somewhere. He needed to explain himself better.  
“Sure,” Jason answered without looking up.  
Or maybe he was wrong, and Jay had just dissolved into giving him one-word answers for everything. That was going to get kind of annoying very quickly.   
“I’ve got a question for you, and you already said you’d tell me the truth.”  
“Shoot,” Bruce said. Good, Jason was starting a conversation. They could be getting somewhere, after all.  
“Why am I here? There’s hundreds of kids in the same situation as I am, so why me?” Jason asked. His eyes were fixed on Bruce’s, looking for any signs of a false answer. He had a feeling the reason the billionaire had picked him because he had some resemblance to Dick and he could easily be seen as Wayne’s kid. The guy was clearly building a family for himself after he’d lost his parents. Jason didn’t want his appearance to be the basis for him getting off the streets. Besides all the features he had that were similar to Wayne were those of his father and for that reason he hated his black hair, the shape of his eyes and the way he was built.   
Bruce was silent for a moment, thinking over his actions the night before. “I’ve worked a lot of murder cases over the years and a few of them have been children. I guess I figured if I saved you, it’d make up for me not being able to save them. Plus, you were hurt and you had the same look that Dick had after his parents were killed. Lost, is the best way of putting it,” Bruce told him. Jason had reached a crossroad in his life. He could either follow in the footsteps of his father and become a criminal or get out. Bruce was offering him a way out.  
Jason didn’t’ know what to say to that. Was it possible Wayne cared about him? No one had ever really cared about him before. Well, there was a first time for everything. He wouldn’t bet on it, which meant he wasn’t letting his guard down, but he could hope and dream he’d found a refuge of some sort.   
“So, how long do I have to have a social worker?” Jason asked. He was really asking how long he had a connection to the outside world, a way out if he needed it.  
“Until you get adopted or you turn eighteen,” Bruce explained. He had an idea why Jason wanted to know. He was a smart kid. He was always working out a plan, his next move and counter moves.  
“Kay.” Jason was satisfied. He had time and an escape. From what he knew adoptions took forever, and there was a good chance Wayne would get sick of him before too long. He tended to get on peoples’ nerves a lot, which was why he had so many scars and bruises.   
“I’m taking you down to the social services office tomorrow,” Bruce told the young thief.  
“What am I supposed to say? ‘Yeah, Batman picked me up on Park Row and took me to Wayne Manor’. That will look suspicious,” Jason responded, dully.   
“It will,” Bruce answered, glad Jason was paying attention to keeping Batman’s identity a secret. “The alley I found you in is the same one my parents were murdered in. I go there sometimes as Bruce Wayne. Simply take the mask out of the situation. Can you tell a believable lie?” Bruce asked. He had just going through lecturing Jason on lying. Well, wasn’t he a model parent?! A thought struck him suddenly. What were the odds he’d find a kid that was becoming part of his family in the very place he’d lost his first one? It was an extremely unlikely thing to happen. Had that had something to do with why he hadn’t left Jason?  
“Only way to survive,” Jason answered. He could fool most people, but he didn’t think he’d be able to get anything past the Dark Knight.  
Bruce figured as much. He wanted more than he could say to give Jason a good and happy life, but that was going to be an uphill battle. Getting Dick settled had been hard and a big adjustment. He’d been a scared, traumatized child, who’d just lost everything. Jason was a scared kid too, but that’s where the similarities ended. He was street tough and used to being hurt for no reason. The world existed to throw another painful obstacle in his path for him to fall over and struggle to get up again, with no one to help him. Maybe with some time, love and a lot of understanding and patience the thief could get better and even learn that there were people who cared about what happened to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Jason sat in a small room, painted in bright colors. Toys were scattered across the floor. There was a low table with three small chairs placed around it. A camera was sitting in the middle of the table, pointed at his face. He didn’t appreciate that at all, but the worst of it was over, he hoped anyway. He’d already met his social worker, Mrs. Ashley Felter. He’d seen the doctor, who’d documented his injuries. Now all that was left was to talk to the child psychologist, which sounded like pure torture.   
The door opened, and a lady with long blond hair walked into the room. She sat down in one of the chairs, although it was too small for her or any adult.  
“Hello. I’m Dr. Jennifer Collar. What’s your name?” she asked.  
“Jason Todd,” Jay answered. “I’d think the others would have told you my name.” He really didn’t want to talk to her. Why did adults all want him to talk about his life? He wanted to forget it all and never have to deal with it ever again.  
“They did, but I thought we should introduce ourselves,” Dr. Collar said. She smiled, kindly. He didn’t see any pity in her eyes, which he was glad about. “Now, why don’t we talk? I just have a few questions for you, and if you want to take a break, just let me know.”  
“M’kay,” Jason answered. There wasn’t much emotion in his voice. He would have liked to go back to the Manor, but he had to get through this. He was surprised at himself for wanting to go back, but anywhere was better than this place.  
“Can you tell me about your father?” the doctor asked.   
“He’s in jail right now. He worked for Two-Face. He’ll probably end up in prison,” Jason answered as shortly as he could. He hoped his dad was in prison for a very long time.  
“What’s he like?” Jennifer asked. She seemed patient and nice. She reminded him of Kate. He wondered if the police even knew about her. If they did they were sure to ask him about it.   
Jason went still. “Can we talk about something else?” He didn’t talk about his dad with his few friends, so there was no way he was going to discuss him with a complete stranger.  
“Yes. Why don’t you just tell me about what your home was like before you ran away?” Jennifer suggested. She would come back to the father issue when Jason didn’t seem so tense.  
“Before Mom OD it was usually just me and her. Once in a while Dad would come home. Then he’d slap us both around. After Mom died he got worse. He was always coming home drunk and I was the only one there for a while to beat up, so…yeah.” Jason’s words gave out. He looked at the table.  
“For a while? Was someone else there?” Jennifer asked. She was hoping to get Jason to make eye contact, but they weren’t anywhere near there, yet.  
Jason nodded, but he didn’t say a word. Even now he could see her limp body lying on the floor in the doorway to the bathroom and his father’s form standing over her, with a malicious grin on his face.   
“Was it a friend of your dad’s?” Jennifer guessed. Asking the little questions would give her somewhat of a picture to work with. Plus, it would be easier for Jason to answer the less in-depth inquiries.   
Jason nodded again. He wrapped his arms around himself. He started rocking back and forth. He forced himself to stop after a moment. The doctor would think he was crazy if he kept that up. He had enough problems without people thinking he had to be put in an asylum.   
“Do you want to stop?” Jennifer asked. Jason was clearly not okay, and she didn’t want to push it. He didn’t need to feel bullied into answering. It would only make things worse.  
“The sooner I answer the sooner I get to go back to Bruce’s house?” Jason questioned. His voice wasn’t entirely steady. How was he supposed to explain what had happened the night Kate had disappeared? Why would she or anyone believe him? He had no proof.   
“I won’t make you tell me something you don’t want to, but yes, the quicker we get through this, the sooner you can leave,” Jennifer told him. “Do you like it at Bruce’s home?” She thought it was best to change the subject for now.   
“So far it’s good. Dick says he wants me to be his brother, and he hopes I want to stay. Al’s nice, I guess. He didn’t seem to mind that I broke a plate and cup this morning,” Jason answered. This he could talk about. That morning had been an interesting one. Dick had gotten him up for breakfast, which they’d all eaten together in the large dining room. He had been taking his dishes to the kitchen, when he’d tripped over the pant leg of the sweats that he’d been given. They were Dick’s and were way too big for him. He’d panicked when Bruce had rushed over to him, not to hurt him for breaking something, but to make sure he was okay.  
“It’s good to have people around that understand that accidents happen,” Collar stated. “Were you scared when you broke the dishes?”  
Jason paused before nodding. “I freaked out a little, but Alfred and Bruce said it was fine and not to worry about it. Dick said he drops things all the time so they’re used to it.”  
“And what’s Bruce like?” Jennifer asked. Jason had spoken about all the members of the Wayne household, except for Mr. Wayne.  
“I think he’s okay,” Jason answered. “He knows I’m…jumpy and said if I feel unsafe all I had to do was call the police or tell my social worker, now that I have one.”  
“You know you should never get in a car with a stranger, right?” Jennifer asked. She’d heard how Wayne had gone to visit the place where his parents were killed and found the little eleven-year-old hurt and trying to steal from him. In this situation things had worked out for the best, but Jason should have known better than to do such a dangerous thing.   
“Yeah, I know, but it was really cold out, and Bruce gave me his cell phone,” Jason explained. He still was in shock at his own actions. He knew how stupid that was, and yet he’d done it anyway.  
“And what do you think of living at Wayne Manor?” Jennifer asked, after thinking for a moment.   
“It’s big and everything looks expensive and way too breakable,” Jason said. “It feels happy, I think.”  
“What do you mean?” That was an odd statement, but Jennifer was happy to hear it.  
“I don’t know, it just feels happy. I’ve never been anywhere that’s like that. Mom was gone a lot trying to get money for her drugs, and my old man wasn’t the happy homemaker type.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “Mom would sing in bars most of the time. She had a really pretty voice. When I was little she taught me to sing. Can we talk about something else?” Jason didn’t want to think about his mom anymore.   
“Of course. Where did you live after you ran away?”  
“Different places. I had to move around a lot so people wouldn’t tell the cops I was living on my own. There were other homeless people wherever I moved to. I never talked to them. They were always drunk or high, and I’ve had all of that I can stand,” Jason answered. He was sick of the filth in Crime Alley, and he was part of it. No matter what he did he’d never be able to get away from that stench.  
“It was very brave of you to leave your dad,” Jennifer told him. A lot of people couldn’t get away from their abuser because of the mental hold that the person had over them.  
“Not really. If I was brave I would have left after Mom died, and I wouldn’t have let Peter hurt Kate,” Jason said. He flinched when he said that name. If he’d been smart he wouldn’t have gone back the night before his dad was arrested, but he had and that was that.   
“Was Kate your dad’s friend?” Jennifer asked, carefully. She was ready to jump away from that topic if Jason started rocking himself again. It was a common method of comforting oneself.   
Jason gave a slight nod. “S-she was nice. She took care of me after Mom died,” he said with a great deal of difficulty. He loved his mom, but Kate had been there for him more than his mom had been. She had been like a mother to him, when he’d had no one.  
“Can you tell me her last name?” Jennifer questioned. Something had happened when it came to Kate that terrified Jason.   
“Her name was Catherine Heywood,” Jason told her shortly.  
“You’re talking about her in the past tense,” Dr. Collar told him, gently. “Did something happen to her?”  
Jason shut his eyes, willing it all away. He just had to get the words out. He couldn’t let himself think about what the words meant. “Promise me my old man will never get me back,” he begged.   
“There’s no way he can get you back,” Jennifer told him, her tone straight forward and serious. Not with what had been done to Jason. He did need to tell her so they would have a record of it, but they would cross that bridge when Jason was ready.  
“A year ago, my dad killed her,” Jason said, finally. He just had to get through this.   
“Can you tell me what happened?” the doctor asked cautiously. Judging by the way the child was acting, he had been there or had heard the first-hand story. Peter could have told him to keep him under control and afraid of him.  
Jason took a deep breath. “My dad and Kate got back from partying around two in the morning. They were both really drunk and fighting. When he got bad like that, Kate would lock herself in the bathroom, so he wouldn’t be able to beat her up. He’d beat me up then, cause he couldn’t get to her. I would sleep on the fire escape when I knew they were going to go get drunk. The fighting was worse that night. I dozed off for a few minutes, and when I woke up it was quiet. I figured Dad had gone out to drink some more and Kate had gone to bed, so I climbed inside. I heard someone moving around in Kate’s and Dad’s room. I thought it was her. I went to check on her.” Jason was trying to get through this as quickly as possible. He’d never told anyone the whole story of what had happened and he didn’t want to now, but what choice did he have?   
“Are you okay?” Jennifer asked when he stopped talking.  
“No,” Jason answered shortly. “When I walked into the room Kate was lying on the floor. At first, I thought she’d only passed out, but then I saw that her chest wasn’t moving. I froze when Dad walked out of the bathroom. We both just stared at each other for what felt like a really long time,” he said all this in a rushed, strained voice.  
“Did your father say anything?” Collar asked him. She hadn’t thought this interview would turn into a child revealing an unknown murder to her.   
“Yes. He just smiled and said, ‘Well, what are we going to do about this, pal?’ I tried to run. I figured he was going to kill me next. He’d said he would do it enough times. He caught me and locked me in a closet. I heard him moving Kate’s body. He left a few minutes later. I tried to get out. I ended up breaking some of my toes kicking the door. I finally gave up. I lost track of the time, but I think he was gone maybe an hour or two. I heard him get back and a little later he went to bed,” Jason said. He felt sick. He wanted to curl up in a ball and shut out the world and everyone in it. Hadn’t he dealt with enough? What else did he have to go through to atone for his mere existence?  
“How long were you locked in the closet?” Jennifer’s voice sounded very far away.  
“He let me out the next day, I think. It was almost night,” Jason answered, fiddling with the zipper on the jacket he’d been given. He had nightmares about being trapped in that tiny closet.  
“Jason,” Collar said, seriously. Her tone caused him to look up at her. “Do you need to stop?”  
The thief shook his head. He was almost done. There was no reason to stop now. “I don’t know what he did with her, but a couple of times when he was drunk he told me that he’d taken her to ‘a place right under everyone’s noses, where no one would ever find her’. I figured he meant the sewers, so I went down there looking for her, but I never found anything. Saw a lot of weird stuff down there though.”   
“You’ve done really well, and we can stop, unless there’s anything else you’d like to tell me,” Jennifer told him. For his sake, she thought they better finish soon. Jason was clearly not okay with talking about this.  
Jason sighed. He was almost free. “Peter tried to strangle me a couple of times, but he’d let go after I blacked out. He’d punch me or throw stuff at me, usually his bottles. That was the only thing he ever had on hand.”  
“I’m sorry about everything that happened.” She was honestly surprised she was even talking to Jason after hearing all this. This could have been a murder case. She could still see faint bruising around his neck.   
“S’okay,” Jason said in a monotone. He wanted to leave and not think about any of this anymore. At that point, his head was lying on the table, and Dr. Collar could tell he was emotionally done.  
“You don’t have to worry about that now. Mr. Wayne is a very good foster dad,” Jennifer told him. She didn’t think that would convince him. It was going to be a long time before he was able to trust people, especially men who reminded him of his father.  
“We’ll see,” Jason mumbled, his face still planted on the table.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was almost the end of The Outlaw. My computer decided 'Hey, lets eat every file and see how much stress and panic it will cause.' Thanks to my wonderful brother-in-law I was able to get the 17 chapters I have written back. So, the show will go on! Thanks for all the Kudos! ^_^

A little while later when Bruce opened the door to leave the building, he and Jason were blinded by flashing cameras. The paparazzi had caught wind of what was going on and had surrounded the office. Microphones were shoved in their faces. Jason pulled his hood up to hide his face. Bruce shielded him as they rushed to the car. The windows were tinted, so no one could see the inside.   
“Are you okay?” Bruce asked. He didn’t think the media would find out so soon about Jason. It had only been two days since he’d found the kid.  
Jason nodded. He looked pale and shaken, but it was hard to tell if that was from his talk with Dr. Collar or because of all the cameras. “What’s wrong with them?”  
“They want a story and right now magazines will pay big money for pictures of you. They did this to Dick too, and once in a while the media will bother him, but they’ll find someone else to terrorize soon,” Bruce explained. He started the car and slowly pulled out of the parking lot, being careful not to run over the reporters. He’d hate to hit one of the vultures. Plus, Alfred would be very mad at him.  
“Oh,” was all Jason said. A few days ago, no one cared about who he was, now everyone wanted to know everything about him, which he thought was stupid. There wasn’t anything special about him. He just happened to be in the right alley at the right time.   
“Are you ready to go shopping?” Bruce asked, trying to fill the silence. He was used to Dick’s non-stop chatter. He didn’t mind the quiet, but it was Jason’s tense fearful silence that he didn’t like. Should they just go home? That interview had been pretty overwhelming. He wasn’t supposed to know what Jason said to the psychologist, but he supplied social services with a lot of charity money throughout the year. Plus, it would better help him know what Jason was dealing with and how he could comfort this child who had seen too much of the world. So, he and Mrs. Felter had watched the interview through the camera feed that was being sent to her laptop for her file on Jason. He intended to look into the disappearance of Catherine Heywood and the police should get involved, but there was the problem of doctor-patient confidentiality, which meant Jason would have to tell his story again, this time to the police and someday maybe a jury.   
“I guess,” Jason answered. “Mom only went to thrift stores or I’d...” Jason stopped mid-sentence. Why did he have to bring that up? Couldn’t he just keep his big mouth shut? With how often he’d gotten hit for saying something, one would think he’d have the sense to stay quiet.  
“You’d what?” Bruce asked. He had an idea, but he didn’t want Jason to be silent about his past, where he came from or what he’d done to survive. He had to face those things at some point, as painful or unpleasant as it might be. On top of that, Bruce didn’t care what Jason had done. He understood desperation better than most.  
“I’d steal whatever we needed,” Jason said, quickly. Part of him hated that he was a thief, but what other choice did he have? The other part of him was proud, because he knew he was good at what he did. To get right down to it, he was conflicted about what he’d done and now there was this new problem of wanting Bruce to think well of him. He had no clue why though. Why should he care what some rich insane snob thought of him? Once upon a time, he’d wanted his father’s approval. Well, that had ended just great.  
“Have you ever had frozen yogurt?” Bruce asked, suddenly. He wanted to take Jason’s mind off this morning and everything for a few minutes at least.  
“No,” Jason answered. There was a hint of curiosity in his voice. He didn’t usually have sweets unless he swiped a candy bar or a soda from a gas station or someplace like that. Shoplifting was one of his specialties. He knew how to watch the cashier and the reflecting mirrors and it helped that most of what he wore was too big for him. It gave him room to hide things.   
“Well, let’s get some before we pick Dick up. I know what he likes, so we’ll get some for him, too,” Bruce said, turning down the street the led to a nearby shop. They had some time to spend before school let out.  
Jason was a little uncomfortable in the yogurt shop. It was clearly an expensive place, and he was painfully aware of the bruises on his face. He got a few odd looks, but he tried to think it was just because Wayne was famous and all that, but honestly, how many street kids walked into a place like that? Even though he had on Dick’s nice clothes, everything else about him screamed, ‘Crime Alley!’ and no one wants a kid from the Alley around. Most of the kids Jason knew would be planning ways to rob the shop and get away. Come to think of it, he was planning his own escape now.   
Once they got their dessert they went back to the car. Jason took a few bites of his. He’d gotten a mix of chocolate and vanilla.  
“What do you think?” Bruce asked. He saw Jason’s eyes light up. That was the first time he didn’t seem completely freaked out in Batman’s presents.  
“It’s really good,” Jason answered, around a mouthful. He’d stolen a small tub of ice cream a few years ago, but this was way better than that.  
Bruce smiled. He’d always enjoyed doing things like this for Dick. Robin’s parents hadn’t had the money to do things like this, so it was really special for Dick, and it was clear the same was true for Jason. He was already planning all the things he would get for his new foster son. Jay would never want for anything ever again. He’d gone without for long enough.  
“Well don’t give yourself a brain freeze,” Bruce told him, smiling. He kept glancing over at Jason. How had this child seen and been through so much and still be functioning? After his parents were murdered he’d barely been able to hold a conversation. No way could he have taken care of himself, but Jason had gone on and was fighting despite everything. Bruce realized with a bit of surprise that Jason was far stronger than he’d been at that age. He hadn’t toughened up until his late teens.  
Bruce pulled down the street that Gotham Academy was on. Reporters were swarming in front of the gate, waiting for their prey. Dick dashed across the road and jumped into Bruce’s Bentley, before any of the reporters realized he was there. The press tried to follow him, but Batman was already driving away. Jason handed Dick the third plastic bowl, after he’d buckled up.  
“Thanks,” Dick said, happily. He was glad school was over. It had been pretty bad once word had gotten out about Jason. It seemed one of the other patients had seen Bruce at Leslie’s clinic with a child that was clearly not Richard and posted online about it. He’d been pestered by obnoxious questions all day, most of which revolved around Bruce replacing him. He knew it was stupid, but it had gotten to him after the four hundredth time it was mentioned.   
His friends, Andy Mallory and Barbara had been nice and supportive about the whole thing. They were excited and wanted to meet Jason. Dick was happy that Jason was there, but he was still adjusting, and he didn’t really know the thief at all. “How did everything go?”  
“I think it went well,” Bruce answered. Well as in he’d learned a few things about Jason, but the emotional stress it had put his foster son through was lamentable. He was trying to figure out how he could connect to Jason, but there were a few problems with that. For starters, Jason was sure to associate men in an authoritative position with his father, and it didn’t help that Bruce shared a good deal of features with the criminal. Jason’s problems only multiplied from there. After what he’d described, Bruce was concerned he might have PTSD. He showed some of the signs. He was aggressive, irritable, hypervigilant, anxious and detached. Bruce didn’t know if he’d had any flashbacks while at the Manor, but judging by the dark circles under Jason’s eyes, he wasn’t getting enough sleep. Bruce would start taking him to therapy once he found someone who he trusted and was qualified to handle this. “What’d you think, Jason?”  
“It was fine,” Jason said, shortly. His gaze remained fixed on the city outside that was flying by. He didn’t want to think about any of it. At least that part of this whole process was over. Bruce was officially his foster dad, and Mrs. Felter would be coming out to the Manor once in a while to check on him. She’d be out tomorrow for a home inspection.   
Bruce parked the car in Killinger’s Department Store parking lot, Dick talking the whole time. Jason was clearly uneasy after his trip to social services, so Robin began trying to distract him by describing virtual reality video games.   
“I’ll show you when we get back home,” Dick said as they walked in the front entrance. “Have you played any video games?” He hadn’t until coming to Wayne Manor. Bruce had bought him every advanced gaming system, and he had at least a hundred games.  
“Once or twice, at a friend’s place, but his dad started working for Penguin so we couldn’t hang out anymore,” Jason said. He didn’t even remember what the game was like or what it had been called.  
“Why not?” Dick asked. He knew organized crime’s hold on people was life long, but that seemed to be taking things a bit far when a couple of kids couldn’t play together because of it.  
“It wasn’t safe for either of us. If someone ratted out Cobblepot to Two-Face or the other way around and people knew we were friends they’d think we’d been running our mouths. One of us was sure to end up in the river,” Jason explained.  
Turned out the young thief didn’t enjoy shopping at all. He appreciated the clothes, books and toys. He’d never had so many nice things, and he’d never even dreamed of owning things like this. It was just that he felt so out of place, especially standing next to Wayne and Dick. He clearly wasn’t part of high society. Add that to the fact that his back was hurting and he was miserable. He’d been given pain medication and the cuts were all covered in clean white bandages, but the medicine was wearing off and he didn’t know if it was alright to ask for more.  
“We should probably get your hair cut while we’re here,” Bruce said as they left one designer store. Jason’s hair was shaggy in some places and tattered in others, like someone had cut it with a pair of dull scissors.  
“Are you sure this is all okay?” Jason asked. He’d just about choked when he saw the price tags on the clothes. It was more money than he could comprehend spending on anyone, and it was all for him. That made it that much more overwhelming.   
“Of course. You can’t keep wearing Dick’s old clothes. They’re too big for you. Plus, you should have things that are all your own.” Jason opened his mouth to argue, but Bruce cut him off. “And no, the clothes you were wearing when I found you don’t count.” The white t-shirt was nothing, but bloody rags, his jeans were completely thread bare and his sneakers were held together with duct tape and pieces of wire. His shoes were the only thing that hadn’t been confiscated by Alfred. Dick’s were far too big for him to walk around in. “Shoes or hair cut next?” Bruce asked. They’d already amassed a good deal of what Jay needed.  
“Hair,” Jason answered. That way he’d be able to sit down for a little while at least. There was a barber shop in the mall. When they got there, the barber’s eyebrows went up and Jason started fidgeting under the man’s blatant stair. He hated this.  
“Who cut your hair?” the man asked as Jason sat down in one of the black chairs.  
“A lady in my apartment building. She was kind of high when she did it,” Jason answered. The lady on the top floor was pretty nice. She used to be a hair stylist, but her drug use had lost the woman her job. When she was in the mood, she’d cut the street kids’ hair for free. It was always a mess, but it was out of their way and more manageable once it was shorter.  
“Oh,” the man said. He looked a bit disconcerted. He certainly wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t in their right sense get near him with a pair of scissors. “Well, I’ll see if I can fix it.” The barber ended up having to cut the hair on either side and the back of Jason’s head close to the scalp. He left the top a good deal longer. He kept it swept back, but a few wisps still fell forward.  
The barber stepped back, looking over his work before taking the cloak off. “What do you think?” he asked. The man was clearly pleased with the job he’d done.  
For the second time that day Bruce saw Jason’s usually stormy eyes light up. While Jay was getting his hair cut, he’d gone out to the car to drop off their purchases. He’d also picked up a surprise for Jason. He was glad he’d gotten back in time to see his foster son’s reaction to not looking like a mess.  
“Thank you. It looks much better,” Jason said, happily. He’d never really cared a great deal how he looked, but now there wasn’t so considerably a difference between him and Dick. Bruce paid, and the three of them left. “Well, I look less like street trash,” Jason commented. He knew the scars, particularly the one on his face still gave him away, but it wasn’t so bad now. He might start to fit into this idea of what it was Bruce wanted for a son. He knew he could look the part of a member of the Wayne household, but he’d never be able to act like it. He wasn’t cheerful like Dick, gentle like Alfred or anything like the act Bruce was able to fool everyone with. He seen and been through too much for him to be that way. Wayne was in for a lot of annoyance and disappointment if he thought Jason would ever be anything other than a kid from the Crime Alley. It was who he was. He would feel shame for the things he’d done, but never for what he was, and he would never change just to please someone else.   
“Jason, you’re not street trash,” Bruce corrected. Jason was his son, not street trash or anything else of that nature.  
“What’s that saying? ‘You can take the animal out of the jungle, but you can’t take the jungle out of the animal?’ It’s not a bad thing, just what I am,” Jason said, looking in a store window at a black and brown hoodie with a red bat on the front and a high collar.  
Bruce followed his line of sight and found what he was looking at. “Do you want it?” he asked. Jason hadn’t seemed excited about the shopping trip, more like dumbfounded than anything else. If there was something he was interested in, Bruce was going to made sure he had it and something as simple as a hoodie was not a problem  
Jason jumped a little in surprise. “It’s fine. You’ve already gotten me everything I need.” He shouldn’t have been staring at the hoodie, then Bruce would think he was trying to guilt him into paying it. Yes, he wanted it, but Wayne had already gotten him a coat.   
“Nonsense,” Bruce said, marching into the store, Dick and Jason in tow. “You should have it, and it has my symbol on it.” He said that last part in a whisper, so no one could hear him.  
“You should know that Bruce will buy you anything if you like it or he likes it,” Dick told him as Bruce paid for the hoodie.  
“Why?” Jason asked. Rich people were weird.  
Dick shrugged. “Have you ever heard of the ‘love languages’?” Jason shook his head. “Well, people show their love in different ways. There’s physical contact, doing things for someone, spending time with them, words of encouragement, or giving them things. Bruce uses all of them, but giving us things is the easiest way for him to show how much he cares. For me it’s time and contact. Alfred’s is encouragement and doing stuff. Which do you think yours is?”  
Jason had to think for a moment. “I haven’t cared about anyone for a long time, so I don’t know.” He’d done stuff for his mom and he loved her, so maybe that was it.   
“That’s really sad,” Dick said, his smiling fading. He’d never had to think about it when it came to expressing himself or showing how he felt. Jason must feel very isolated and alone. He brightened again. “Don’t worry about it, though. You’ll figure it out.”


	8. Chapter 8

Their last stop was the shoe store. Bruce internally cringed when he saw the state Jason's shoes were in. It was a wonder he hadn't stepped on something and had it go through what was left of the bottoms of his sneakers. When he took them off, Bruce could see newspaper and cardboard lining the inside to provide some level of protection from the cold and wet.

"We should probably throw these away," Bruce said picking them up as Jason tried on a nice pair of army style boots.

He looked up when Bruce said that. "Yeah, I know." For some stupid reason, he didn't like the idea of getting rid of them. He'd picked them up at a thrift store three years ago. He'd nearly been caught walking out of the building with the shoes shoved under his jacket. Wow, he was attached to a pair of old sneakers. He really needed to get over it or maybe it was just that he never threw anything away until he couldn't even remotely use it anymore and the shoes were still in mostly one piece. He could get another year or two of use out of them. Plus, if Wayne got sick of him, he'd have to have something to wear when he went back to the streets, and it wasn't a smart move to have anything that was nicer than what other people had. It was a sure way of getting beaten and robbed.

A while later they walked out of the mall. Jason was completely exhausted, and his back was throbbing. He was a little in shock at the money Bruce had dropped in just one shopping trip. What was really shocking was everything had been for him. He'd never owned more than a few old second or third hand t-shirts and one pair of jeans. He'd cut them off in the summer when it was too hot, then when it got cold again, he'd steal another pair. But to have so many different things was a bit overwhelming.

"Are you doing okay, buddy?" Bruce asked. He could tell something was wrong or maybe the eleven-year-old was just worn out. It had been a very long and emotional day.

"Yes. It's just…. Well, could I have some more pain meds?" Jason asked. He instantly regretted it. "I'm not trying to OD or anything like that," he added quickly. Great, now Wayne would think he was trying to get himself high like his mom had. He should have just kept his mouth shut. He could handle the pain after all. Heck, he'd jacked the Batmobile and gotten three of the tires off when his back was in worse shape than it was now.

Bruce looked at his watch. "I'm sorry, Jason. I was supposed to give you another pill two hours ago." He should have been paying more attention, but Jason hadn't acted like he was in any pain, and the whole social services visit had pushed it entirely out of his head. Bruce quickly got in the car and found the painkillers Leslie had prescribed. He gave Jason a water bottle and the pill. "And I know you wouldn't try to get high." Jason was too afraid of not being able to protect himself to allow himself any form of escapism from his problems, either that or he hated drug abuse from watching his mom.

"I'm surprised the vultures haven't found us," Dick said as he got in the car.

"That's because they're camped out in front of the Manor," Bruce said. Alfred had texted him to be prepared for the swarming crowd at the gate.

When Bruce pulled up in front of his home forty minutes later reporters and photographers were scrambling for any news from inside the darkened car. Jason put his hood back on as Bruce inched through the crowd.

"It's okay. They can't see us," Dick told him, sympathetically. He understood the fear this kind of aggressive attention created. He was a performer, he loved the spot light, but this was different. It was maddening and invasive. "Bruce, are you parking in the garage?"

"I was planning on it," Bruce answered. He wished Dick and Jason didn't have to go through this. It was so draining and made the emotional turmoil worse than it already was. Jay was dealing with so much, he didn't need this on top of everything else. Bruce had gone through this after his parents' murder. That had planted a deep-seeded hate for the press and the media. When he'd found out that Superman was a journalist, he'd ignored the Man of Steel for almost six months. It was a childish thing to do, but it was Bruce's way of handling it. Clark finally figured out what the problem was, and they'd gotten things worked out.

To confound the whole thing, Bruce needed Jason to tell him or someone other than a doctor about what his dad had done to Heywood. It was the only way for an investigation to begin or maybe Batman could pay Todd another visit. It sometimes took a few conversations with some criminals for them to realize they were trapped and he would keep coming back again and again until he got what he wanted.

"So, what's going on tomorrow?" Dick asked as they walked into the Manor through the kitchen door, weighed down with bags.

"You have training and Jason has a doctor's appointment in the morning and after that Mrs. Felter will be stopping by. Then we can relax for the rest of the day," Bruce said. Batman would be going out for a few hours, but he didn't want to leave Alfred with the boys until Jason was more settled. He trusted the butler completely; he just didn't want the older man to have to deal with things by himself if there was an issue. He pulled a water bottle out from the frig and sat down at the kitchen table. They had to unpack Jason's things, but he needed a moment.

"But I've already seen three doctors," Jason complained. He'd had about all he could take. He was going up to his room after this for a smoke. He only had ten left so he had to be careful. He wouldn't be able to get his hands on anymore for a while, not with Batman watching him twenty-four seven.

"It's a dentist," Bruce explained. As unpleasant as Jason found all this, it was necessary. Who knew how bad his teeth were.

"Do I have to go?" Jason asked. He'd done everything he was told, so maybe he could get out of this. The whole being obedient was out of character for him, but he was trying to keep a roof over his head for as long as possible. If he was lucky, he could get Wayne to let him stay until it started warming up again. That would be a few months, but there was a chance Bruce would put up with him. All he had to do was deal with the constant ordering him about. The only person whom had ever told him what to do was his dad and that was usually followed with a fist to his face.

"I'm sorry, but yes you do. Let's get this all up to your room." Bruce led the way up to the second floor. "It shouldn't be too bad. Dr. Wells is a very good dentist." He hoped he was saying what would help Jason. After how things had gone with Leslie, he was sure Jay would do everything he could to get out of going.

"I think the last time I had a toothbrush I was six or seven," Jason told him, flatly. It was going to be terrible, so why was Wayne lying about it. Alfred had given him one the other night. The butler seemed to think of everything.

"Hello, Master Bruce," Alfred said. He'd been dusting Thomas's and Martha's bedroom. Nothing was ever changed about that room, and no one ever went in there other than Alfred to clean. Once in a great while Bruce would go in there when he was upset about something. "Do you need some assistance unpacking, sirs?"

"Thanks, Al. We could use the help?" Bruce answered. He wanted to get Alfred's opinion on how Jason was adjusting. There was a lot he didn't see that the butler did.

Bruce and Alfred hung up shirts in the large walk-in closet, while Dick and Jason filled the dresser drawers and placed action figures on some of the shelves.

"Come on. I'll show you the game room," Dick said half dragging Jason away.

"Hold up a second," Bruce called. Dick stopped in his tracks and Jason just about crashed into him. "I know you didn't have much time for toys, but you do now and I wanted to get you something special." He took a large soft teddy bear from the last bag and handed it to Jay, who stared at it.

Jason had had a bear once, but his father had thrown it in the sink and poured beer on it. He'd then dropped a match on the stuffed animal. Jason knew he'd gone something to anger his dad, but he didn't remember what. That bear had been the only toy he'd ever had or cared about.

Jason looked up at Bruce. "Y-you won't take it away?" he asked. He wasn't going to keep it, if Wayne was just do take it away from him and make him watch while he destroyed it.

"No," Bruce promised. "He's yours." He'd seen a spark of some sad memory dance through Jason's eyes. That bear had brought something up that clearly hurt and judging by Jason's question, Bruce would say Jay's father or someone had taken a precious toy from him.

"Thanks," Jason said, entirely unsure. He held the bear tightly. Why was his throat tight? It was a stupid teddy bear for crying out loud, but no one had ever given him anything like this. He told himself to knock it off. This didn't mean anything. Bruce was just trying to get his loyalty so he wouldn't tell anyone that he was Batman, but for a moment it was nice to pretend he cared. The betrayal would come soon. A slap or a punch, followed by the false promise that it would never happen again. Jason wouldn't forget what that was like just because of a stuffed toy. He turned to Dick. "Can we go now?"

Bruce sighed as the two boys went out of the room. "What do you think?" he asked. He was so afraid he wouldn't be the parent Jason needed.

"I think Master Jason is a good child. He's not like Master Dick, but considering how he was raised and how he has been treated, that is to be expected," Alfred answered.

"You don't know the half of it," Bruce said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the ceiling as he retold Jason's story.

"Oh, my," Alfred said slightly shocked. He knew it had been bad, but to choke a child into unconsciousness was monstrous. What had possessed the elder Todd? Children were innocent, helpless things, that just wanted to be loved. He could tell Jason was smart, and there was a dangerous air about him. If Todd had merely treated his son well, he would have had quite the devoted criminal in his power. "I think it will be very good for you, Master Dick and Master Jason," he said, finally. He would be picturing the youngest master being choked for some time. It was a haunting image.

"I hope so," Bruce answered. "I know Dick's been a bit lonely lately and Jay needs someone to take care of him, who's not going to use drugs or beat him."

"Well, since neither of those apply to you, I would say you are qualified," Alfred said, his smile returning slightly.

"How do you figure this will be good for me?" Bruce asked as they walked down the hall, side by side.

"Master Dick was very willing to accept you almost without question, but Master Jason will not be so receptive."

"And that's good for me how, exactly?" Bruce asked. Alfred had always been able to find life lessons in just about every situation.

"You need to learn patience," Alfred answered, in his curt tone.

Bruce hadn't been expecting that. "I've been on stake-outs that have lasted for days. There are those horrible people at the parties I go to, and I listen to people chatter nonstop. There are the meetings I sit in almost every day. How can you say I'm not patient?"

"Sir, remember when you were trying to get custody of Master Dick?" Alfred asked with raised eyebrows.

"So, I was stressed," Bruce shrugged. He'd been an absolute mess the whole time, but that was beside the point.

"When you were training in Japan and when you returned to Gotham, I seem to remember you were impatient. I might add that your actions in both those occasions nearly cost you your life," Alfred stated. "You've learned patience when it comes to your work, but not in your personal life."

Bruce smiled. "I seem to remember you not letting me leave the table until I ate all my green beans."

"Yes, sir. I remember. You sat at the table until eleven o'clock, but that wasn't patience. It was stubborn pig-headedness," Alfred shot back. Raising Bruce after the death of his parents had been no easy undertaking.

"This is so cool," they both heard Jason gasp.

Bruce opened the large double doors to the game room to find Jason standing in the middle of the room with the VR headset on. Headphones were covering his ears, drowning out any sounds of the real world. What Bruce could see of the child's face spelt wonder and amazement. Dick was sitting on a black recliner, laughing at Jason's reaction to the virtual world.

"Incroyable," Jason muttered, reaching out to touch what he was seeing. He was completely lost in what he was seeing.

"You speak French?" Bruce asked in surprise. He hadn't even considered Jason being bilingual. His speech pattern didn't indicate it in the slightest. Batman spoke loud enough that Jay could hear him through the headphones.

Jason's face went pale and he jerked the headset off. He took a few steps back. His mother, Sheila Todd, had once been Sheila Lefort. Jason's grandparents had been born in France and lived there for some time before getting married and moving to New Orleans where they had Sheila. She had grown up speaking a mix of English and French, and she'd spoken that way to Jason. Peter couldn't understand them when they talked to one another, which made him more aggressive. It ended with them both getting beaten worse than usual.

"I'm sorry," Jason whispered. He backed into a corner, his eyes fixed on Bruce. There was no way out of that room other than the door, and Wayne was blocking it. "I just slipped." He hadn't known that Bruce was there. If he had he wouldn't have let his guard down.

"Jay, it's fine," Bruce said, gently. "You're safe here." He kept his distance. It seems he'd stumbled upon yet another of Jason's fears.

"You're not mad?" Jason asked. He could barely get the words out. He needed to calm down. He was fine. Nothing was going to happen, but the smell of liquor seemed to fill the room and he could hear his father's voice, laughing. His breathing became harder and harder to control. What was wrong with him?

"Jason?" Dick asked, trying to take Jay's fixed, alarmed eyes away from Bruce's imposing figure looming in front of him.

"Dick, he's having a panic attack. Come over here," Bruce ordered. Jason didn't need to feel boxed in. He sat down on the floor by the door, so if Jason wanted to leave the room he could without having to walk by Bruce. "Alfred, could you get him something to drink?" Dick sat down next to him, while Alfred disappeared down the hall. Bruce had panic attacks every once in a while. He would lock himself in away until it passed. Dick would hang around him when he was having problems. Batman didn't know what to do for the thief. "Jason, I want you to try to focus on your breathing." Jason was hyperventilating, and if he didn't stop soon he would pass out. He got no response, and there was no change in Jason.

Bruce was at a loss. He couldn't just sit there. The fear in Jason's eyes spoke volumes to what he'd been through and how broken he was. Batman got up slowly and walked over to the corner Jason was crouched in. He heard a fearful whine come from the back of Jason's throat as Bruce carefully pulled him into a hug. He could feel the small heart racing in the child's chest. "You're safe. I promise it's okay." It wasn't okay. This was as far from okay as one could get. This wasn't something a kid should know or have to deal with. Bruce sat there for what felt like a long time, holding Jason and muttering gentle things to him.

"You can let go now," Jason said unexpectedly. He felt drained, sick and very stupid.

Bruce instantly released the thief. He looked down at him, searching his eyes for any remnants of that overwhelming terror. "Are you okay?" Well, he obviously wasn't, but okay in Bruce's world was functioning or at least breathing normally.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about that," Jason said, pulling away. His checks turned red, and he looked at the soft carpeted floor. Well, that was humiliating. Why did he have to lose it like that? He hadn't freaked out like that in weeks. Why did that happen? What was wrong with him?

"You don't have to be sorry, especially not for having a panic attack," Bruce told him as he backed away, giving Jason some space.

"So that's what's wrong with me," Jason sighed. He'd heard of people having flashbacks and panic attacks, but he thought that only happened to soldiers, cops and maybe superheroes.

"Didn't you know?" Bruce asked. Having a panic attack was one thing, but not knowing what was happening or why had to make it worse. Growing up he'd always read his dad's medical books, so after their deaths, he'd known what was wrong and why. He never questioned it. The answer was trauma, plain and simple.

"How would I?" Jason snapped suddenly. He wanted to be alone. He didn't want to talk about this. Now, Wayne was definitely going to throw him out. No one wanted a messed-up kid and a messed-up thief was worse. He'd go back to the streets. The only thing he'd miss was three meals a day and a roof over his head.

Where had that come from? It took Bruce only a few seconds to adjust to Jason's unexpected outburst. He'd done this to Alfred at that age. Poor Alfred. How had he dealt with the constant anger and the nightmares? The reason was the butler loved him and would do anything for him. Bruce could do that for Jason, same as he did it for Dick every day. "You wouldn't," was all Bruce answered. He noticed that Jay had gone still and quiet. He was scared. He must think he was in trouble for getting angry.

"Can I go to the room?" Jason begged in a whisper. He needed to get away before he made things worse.

"You may," Bruce said. He noted that his foster son didn't call the room his. Just 'the room'. He watched as Jason stood up and walked out, but not before picking up his bear, almost unconscious that he had it. Jay passed Alfred in the hall, who was returning with the water. The thief took the glass from him without a word and shut himself in his room.

Jason leaned against the balcony, smoking. His bear was under one arm, pulled close to him. It occurred to him suddenly that he must be quite the picture. He was caught between the world he moved in and being a child. Those two places did not mix, but he was stuck there just the same. What was going to become of him? Wayne wasn't going to tolerate much more of this and as much as he told himself he'd go back to the Alley, the idea made him sick. He knew what that place was, what it did to people. He'd be lucky if he survived past sixteen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the comments. ^_^ I'm glad to hear you're all enjoying the story. I apologize for the spacing issue. I have the story spaced correctly on my computer and didn't realize it wasn't translating over. It should be all taken care of now.

Hours passed, and Jason still hadn't come out of his room. Bruce was pacing up and down the halls. He was beyond worried. Jay had been so upset, but it would it make things worse if he went to check on him. At one point he'd heard Jay's voice singing softly to himself, but that had stopped. Bruce had been impressed with his voice. He had had no idea Jason could sing so well.

"It's dinner time," Dick told Bruce. He'd slipped silently down the hall to find his dad walking back and forth. "Were you like this when I first came to live here?"

Bruce smiled down at him. "No, I was much worse. I didn't have a clue how to be a parent." He looked at Jason's door. "I still don't. Are you okay? We haven't had time to talk like we usually do." He felt bad, but he was adjusting to this, like everyone else.

"Yeah, it's just…well a few of the kids at school said that you got Jason cause you were tired of me, and I know that's not true, but it still hurt. 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me' is the stupidest saying there is," Dick said. He knew it wasn't Jason's fault, but he was getting annoyed with him for all this. The younger boy had disrupted his small sphere, and he didn't much care for that.

"I know, and I'm sorry for all of this," Bruce said gently. "Are you still okay with Jason being here?" He couldn't let Dick feel thrown aside for the sake of anyone.

"I think so," Robin shrugged. "We just need to get to know one another, which is kind of hard with him. I know he's been hurt and all, but I've never done anything to him. He shouldn't be nervous around me."

"Well, I've never done anything to him either, and he's scared of me," Bruce pointed out. Dick was bigger than Jason and was therefore a threat. He'd no doubt been attacked by older kids on the streets. It was a vicious world, and it devoured the small and weak.

"Everyone is scared of you," Dick responded, dully. He wasn't trying to be difficult. Bruce had enough problems. He just wasn't sure how things were going to be now, and that was daunting. He'd been through one home shattering event; he didn't want to go through another.

"We just have to patient and gentle," Bruce said. He knew Dick understood why Jason was the way he was. That didn't mean he was always going to deal with it in an adult manner. As mature as Dick was he was still a kid, who wanted his dad's undivided attention. "Do you want to see if you can convince Jay to come out for dinner? I don't think he wants to be around me at the moment." Or ever for that matter, Bruce thought glumly.

"Okay," Dick answered. He walked up to Jason's locked door and knocked on it loudly. "Hey, it's time to eat," he called. If Jason didn't make some sound soon, Dick knew Bruce would pick the door's lock.

"I'm coming," Jason's muffled voice replied. The door was opened, and Jay's thin face peeked out. Neither Bruce nor Dick looked angry, so he stepped into the hall. "Am I in trouble?" he asked. If so, he'd just go back in the room he'd been allowed to stay in. Angry people were dangerous people. Time and experience had taught him that.

"Not at all. Now why don't we all go downstairs. Supper will get cold," Bruce said. Food seemed to distract the street kid from everything else. He thought he smelled something burning, but it was faint and fleeting.

Jason slipped out of the room and followed them down the long stairs. He gave Bruce plenty of space. Dick noticed that Jay kept the Boy Wonder between Batman and himself. It would give him a few extra seconds to get away if need be. Dick deliberated whether this was done intentionally or was Jason's subconscious reaction to being afraid of someone. The three of them sat down at the long dining table. Jason found that room as overwhelming as most of the others. How could people even live in this place?

"Dick and I are going on patrol tonight. Would you like to hang out in the cave? You can use the radio and the police scanner," Bruce suggested. He wanted to involve Jay in what he and Robin were doing without putting him in danger.

"Uumm…okay," Jason said. The last time he'd been in the Batcave it hadn't been a very fun time, but if he said no to something Bruce proposed he might get mad and after Jason had spazzed out like that earlier he wasn't sure where things stood.

Once supper was finished they went down to the cave. Dick showed him the basic workings of the Batcomputer and the other 'bat' related gear.

"So, you just slapped the word 'bat' in front of everything?" Jason asked, sarcastically. He'd never understood why all the heroes had some gimmick. He almost jumped when Batman came out of the shadows. He didn't like the solid white eyes that seemed to see everything and nothing. He judged people by their eyes and not being able to see them made predicting what someone was going to do very hard.

Dick laughed. "Pretty much." He had been the one to start calling Batman's car the Batmobile. It had seemed like a fitting name when he was nine.

Jason turned his attention to a holographic map of Gotham. It was marked with gang locations and drug stashes and other known criminal activity. "That's not the Westside Skull's main hide- out," he said without thinking.

That got Batman's interest. "What?" he asked. The gangs moved around so much it was difficult to keep track of their movements.

Jason was on alert again. Telling someone they were wrong about something always ended with him having a busted lip or a black eye. He had to answer though. Not telling Batman about criminals wasn't a good idea. "The Skull's hide-out is at the Burnley Freight Yards. That way they don't have to wait when their drugs arrive." Jason should know. He hadn't been able to make deliveries for them after they'd moved. It had taken out a good portion of the money he got.

"But the Falcone Family runs the drugs out of there," Batman told him. Had his informant been wrong?

"Yeah, but Falcone's made a deal with them. Word is Falcone's getting desperate since you and Robin shut down his other operations," Jason explained. Criminals would unite under certain circumstances, but it would only be a matter of time before they stabbed each other in the back, literally and figuratively.

"Is there anything else on the map that's wrong?" Bruce asked. Who better to get information than from someone who saw everything, but wasn't noticed?

"Well…The Alibi Bar is connected to the dry cleaners across the street by a tunnel. When one place is going to be searched they move the drugs to other building," Jason said, tentatively. "Black Mask's getting squeezed out by Thorne so he had to get creative." The Alibi was one of Mask's fronts, and the owner of the dry cleaners was as shrewd and cunning as they came, even by Alley standards.

Batman was pleased with this intelligence. He felt a stab of pain, when he thought of what Jason had to go through to learn this. Gangs did not care whether someone was old or young, they had to be treated like a threat until proven otherwise. What had Jason done to secure the trust of such people as Black Mask's men. "That's really good, Jason. Why don't you keep working on this while Dick and I are gone?"

"Sure," Jason answered. He'd run drugs for years. He was known at a lot of the hide-outs. He could walk into just about any place in the Alley and be welcomed. He was trusted for the most part. After all, who was he going to tell? There were a few places not even he dared go, like to the Iceberg Lounge. That was a death sentence for anyone who had connections to Two-Face.

Batman and Robin left shortly after. Jason kept working. He'd never thought all the secrets he knew would do any good, but here he was helping the World's Greatest Detective. Was this what it felt like to be Robin?

Alfred came down sometime later. He didn't look very pleased. "I take it Master Wayne suggested you could be of some assistance," the butler said. His tone held a slight edge.

"I was telling him what I knew about the Westside Skulls, and he said I could change the map if anything was wrong," Jason answered. "Are you mad at Bruce?"

"Why do you ask that, Master Jason?" Alfred questioned as he prepared a tray of medical supplies for Bruce's and Richard's return.

"Well, you've always called Bruce 'Master Bruce', since I've been here, until a minute ago. You called him 'Master Wayne'," Jason explained his reasoning.

"Very astute of you, Young Master. I do call him that when I'm…displeased with his actions. You see, sir, when Master Dick first came to live here Master Bruce promised he would keep the masked part of his life away from Master Richard. You can see for yourself how long that promise lasted. I do not wish for you to be dragged into that world," Alfred told him.

"You don't have to worry about me getting dragged into anything. I'm already apart of Crime Alley. I was born there, remember?" Jason smiled. He knew more about that place than anyone could hope to learn in a life time. He knew where bodies were hidden, where the illegal gambling halls were, and he knew where to go if one didn't want to be found. He even had his own stash in case of emergencies. In one particularly dark and dirty side street there was an old dumpster, and behind that dumpster a section of the wall had been cut out. It was just big enough for a small adult; for someone of Jason's size there was plenty of room. He'd spent quite a few cold and rainy nights in that alcove.

Alfred raised his eyebrows. "That provides a great deal of consolation, young sir," the butler said in an unamused tone, which Jason found funny. He hadn't had anything to smile about in a long time and the butler's serious yet sarcastic way of talking make him relax. "It is much more than the place. It is the mask. It consumes everything," Alfred said, now serious. "Master Wayne has been pronouncedly better since Master Dick arrived, but I fear for them both."

"I guess I always figured Batman and Robin could handle anything," Jason said. They were people after all, and people died every day. It was just that Batman seemed so unkillable. He had heard about The Dark Knight from the time he was five or six. After all the dangerous encounters he had walked away from most Gothamites thought their protector was invincible.

"That's what people are meant to think," Alfred said.

It was six hours before Batman and Robin came back. Something had clearly happened. Neither of them looked hurt, but they were both quiet and tense. Jason noticed he was starting to be able to read them based on their posture and movements.

"What has occurred, Master Bruce?" Alfred inquired. He was afraid to ask. He never knew what grisly things would come to light when Batman left his cave.

"There was a kidnapping and murder. The CEO of Gothcorp, Ferris Boyle and his wife, Shana were found in the back on the getaway car," Bruce answered.

"You know who did it?" Jason asked. Bruce was a CEO, too. He wasn't in danger, was he?  
"He was involved with the Sullivan Crime Family. He turned on them. People are saying Mickey 'the Mink' Sullivan put out the hit," Dick answered. The Irish mob was not a group to be trifled with. He was watching Batman, concerned for his mentor.

"I should have realized they'd been kidnapped, but everything pointed to them having left of their own will," Batman said, sitting down in his large black chair. Guilt washed over him. He'd been keeping an eye on Ferris for a while now. He'd known the CEO was up to something, but he hadn't been sure how deep he'd gone down the rabbit hole. Shana hadn't known what her husband was doing. Why did they have to kill her, too?

"You, despite all of your expertise, cannot save everyone, sir," Alfred said in his gentle way.

"I know," Batman sighed. There was something he could do to prevent this from happening to Jason. He'd injected GPS trackers into Robin, Alfred and himself years ago. He needed to make sure he had a way to find Jason if something ever happened.

Bruce went to one of his work tables and loaded a tracker into a syringe gun. He turned to Jason, whose eyes got very big when he saw the large needle on the end of the syringe.

"What's that for?" Jason asked. He'd had enough of getting stuck with needles for one week. His arm still hurt from getting those vaccines.

"If Ferris Boyle had had a tracker on his phone or himself, he and his wife might still be alive," Batman said, seriously. He had a feeling this wasn't going to go over very well, but he didn't care. He wasn't losing anyone else.

"You want to inject me with a tracker?" Jason demanded, his voice rising slightly. He didn't like that idea at all.

"It's for your protection," Bruce answered. How could he get across how important this was? Dick was alive because of the tracker.

"What am I? Your dog?" Jason snapped angrily. "You can't do that!" If Wayne put a tracker on him, he wouldn't be able to hide from the Bat if he ever wanted to leave the Manor. He knew he was a prisoner, and this only conformed it.

"Jason, we all have trackers just in case someone takes us," Bruce said. He didn't want to lose the little trust he'd gained in the last few days.

"Yeah, it has saved my life more than once," Dick chimed in, trying to be helpful.

"I'm not trying to invade your privacy. The tracker will be inactive unless there's an emergency," Bruce explained.

"Sure, and then you'll want to put a microphone on me, so you can listen to all my conversations," Jason said, furiously. He wasn't going to be convinced so easily.

"Do you want me to tell you how Ferris and Shana died?" Batman said in a stone-cold voice. "He was shot in the stomach. He bled to death. They stabbed Shana seven times. Luckily, they hit an artery in her heart, and she died quickly. They knew what was happening to them. They knew they were going to die horrible deaths."

Jason looked as if he was about to say something smart mouthed, but he didn't. "How bad is that needle going to hurt?" He was trying to think of how he could avoid this.

"It's going to sting a lot," Bruce answered. It seemed Jason understood his reasoning. He wasn't going to let anyone take Jay like that. It would be too much for him to bear. He paused. When had the thought of Jason dying started to make him sick? It must have been when he'd had that panic attack. He was so broken, so little and helpless.

"What about metal detectors?" Jason questioned. Maybe he could talk himself out of the whole thing, but that wasn't likely to work, not when he was dealing with Batman.

"It's small enough that it can't be detected," Bruce said.

"What if someone sees it?" Jason tried. He was running out of objections.

"It will be behind you ear, under the skin. No one will see it, and if they do you can easily write it off as an old raised scar," Bruce told him.

Jason's shoulders sagged a little in defeat. Even if he told Bruce where to get off, the Bat would probably just wait and inject the tracker when he wasn't expecting it. "Fine, but if you turn it on every time I leave this place, I'm cutting it out," he huffed. He'd need a pair of tweezers and a razor blade to do it. Well, those two things were about to vanish from Bruce's bathroom. He was silent as Batman shot the tracker into the side of his head. "Thanks," he said sarcastically. He rubbed the spot, feeling the small bump just below his skin.

"You're welcome," Bruce answered, just as sarcastically. "Dick, head to bed. You too, Jay."

Dick hugged Batman and Agent A goodnight before disappearing up the stairs. Jason turned to go up as well, but Bruce caught him in a soft hug before he could leave. Jason jumped in surprise, and he did not return the embrace. The last time he'd been hugged was the night his mother had died, and after so long the act was odd and foreign to him.

"Good night," Bruce told him, letting him go. People needed that contact to be okay. A hug, a pat or a squeeze of the hand. The only physical contact Jason had had recently was a slap or a punch. He needed to know that he was wanted and accepted. Bruce didn't mind that Jason hadn't responded. After everything that had been done to him, Bruce was a little surprised he hadn't gotten a fist to the face.

"Night," Jason answered. "Night, Al." He went to the elevator and stepped inside. He stopped the doors from closing at the last second. "Thanks for everything today. I know I can be a pain in the neck." Before Bruce could say a word, Jason let the doors close.

"Well, maybe he doesn't hate me after all," Batman said, turning back to his work.

"It would seem that way, sir," Alfred said. For Jason not hating someone who reminded him of his father was a big step. "You are the first person who has shown Master Jason genuine concern for his welling being, and that means a great deal to him. At least that is how it appears to me. Good night, Master Bruce."


	10. Chapter 10

Bruce woke to the sound of terrified screaming. He was out of bed and in the hall in a matter of seconds. Dick's head poked out of his room, an alarmed look on his sleepy face.

Bruce caught the sound of Jason's door cracking as he threw it open. He flicked on the over- head light to find Jason in the middle of what was clearly a horrific nightmare. Bruce was immediately trying to wake up his foster son.

"Jay, wake up!" Batman said, loudly. He shook Jason by the shoulders.

Jason's blue eyes flew open. He raised his arms to protect his face from any fist that might come his way. His legs shot out, kicking Bruce in the stomach as hard as he could. "I'm sorry," he yelped. "I'll be quiet." He was blinded by the bright light and couldn't remember where he was. The only thing present in his mind was there was someone else there and they were sure to be mad.

Bruce backed away slight. "It's alright. You were having a bad dream." Boy, was that an understatement. He was trying to ignore the pain in his gut. Who knew such a skinny little kid could kick so hard. He'd used his heel, so that was why it hurt as much as it did.

Jason sat up, watching Bruce and Dick. Everything came back to him and he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. "Sorry," he muttered, trembling. His body shook, making him feel weak and sick inside.

"It's fine," Bruce told him gently. "We all have bad dreams. Do you want to talk about it?" Had he been dreaming about his mother, his father, or Cathine's death? Or had it been one of the other many terrors he'd been through?

Jason shook his head, violently. It had been bad enough. He didn't want to relive it. He was surprised Bruce didn't seem annoyed at all. No one liked getting woken up at five thirty by a screaming kid after all.

"We all should probably go back to bed," Bruce said. He wasn't sure what to do really. Jason seemed more unnerved by him, which wasn't what he needed at the moment, nor was it what Bruce wanted.

Jason didn't want to be left all alone. There was no way he was going back to sleep after seeing his mom's and Kate's bodies rotting in the apartment, with his dad standing next to them. It ended with Peter killing him, too. It played through his head most nights and whenever he let his mind wander, he'd find himself in that living horror.

"I'm going to go work out," Dick said, quickly. It was only thirty minutes earlier than he usually got up, and he had seen a look on Jay's face that he knew well from his own experiences. "You want to come?" he asked Jason, who jumped at the opportunity to get up.

"Try to keep it down," Bruce told them. He wanted to get a few more hours of sleep if he possibly could.

Two hours later Bruce went down to the gym to find Dick sitting, cross legged on a mat, looking like he had barely broken a sweat and Jason lying on the floor, panting.

"Do you do that every day?" Jason asked. He hadn't thought about what Batman and Robin had to do in order to fight crime.

"Kind of. We haven't done any hand-to-hand combat training, yet," Dick answered, hesitantly. Jay had done a pretty impressive job keeping up with him, all things considered.

Jason groaned. "You're insane!" He felt like he'd been beaten up, and then run a marathon. What was wrong with these people?

Dick laughed, his musical laugh. "Well, I do run around Gotham in a costume and a mask. Most people who do that are in Arkham."

"Dickie, Jay, it's almost time for breakfast. Go get cleaned up. Alfred won't like it if you're late," Bruce said. He hated to interrupt them. They seemed to be getting along, which was what he'd been hoping for. Richard had a cheerful and kind spirit that was sure to bring Jason up.

"Kay," Dick said, obediently. He held out a hand to help Jay up. "Come on, Kid."

Jason accepted Dick's offered hand. "Who are you calling 'Kid'? You're only a year older than me."

Dick shrugged. "You're younger, so that makes you 'Kid'." When he was six or seven he'd asked his parents for a little brother. They had said maybe someday. Now they were gone, and he had his little brother. That was a painful way of thinking about it. He knew better than to take even a moment for granted. Jason was going to know what it meant to be loved and wanted just as he knew what it meant.

The two of them started to walk out of the room, but Bruce stopped Jason with a hand on his shoulder as he was passing him. He cringed internally when he felt every bone of the thief's small frame. Jason flinching under his gentle hand didn't help either. "Would you be interested in training with Dick on a regular basis?" It would give them something to bond over and do together.

Jason was surprised by the offer. He knew he'd only slow Dick down, and he couldn't really afford that. "Could I learn how to fight?"

Bruce nodded. "That would be part of it. Why do you ask?"

"So, no one will be able to beat me up like Peter did," Jason answered.

Bruce couldn't help but notice that Jason avoided calling his father 'Dad', especially when he was talking about what Peter had done to him and others. It was 'my old man' or 'Peter' for the most part. Batman understood why. Jason was trying to distance himself from his dad and calling that man something that was supposed to mean safety and love was just wrong. He had held a living treasure in his hands and he'd broken it without a second thought. The fact that Peter's hands were shattered did make Bruce feel better about the whole thing, but it wouldn't take away Jason's nightmares or his fear, but maybe the knowledge that he could protect himself would do some good.

Bruce knew what it meant to have a loving father, and he knew what it meant to be that kind of dad. What Peter had done was horrific, but maybe Bruce would be able to make up for some of it. The thief had never had a real dad, and he needed someone to trust and latch on to. He needed an anchor in this wild and uncertain world, and Bruce knew he could be that if Jason would let him.

Jason went upstairs to get cleaned up like Bruce had told him. He wasn't an obedient kid by nature, so he was a little startled how he wasn't questioning his foster dad at every turn. That title 'foster dad' felt a bit odd to him. He was at this place and this person had agreed to let him stay there for the time being for some reason. He didn't understand Bruce at all. He knew that billionaire would get good press for this, but no amount of press was worth having him around. No one in their right mind would let a thief into their home.

Batman walked into the kitchen to see Alfred standing watch over the French toast. "Morning."

"Good morning, Sir," Alfred answered as he prepared three plates. "I trust Master Jason is alright now."

"He is. How did you know it was him?" Bruce asked. Too many nights were disturbed by tortured cries from the members of the Wayne Manor.

"You and Master Dick both have a very distinct scream. I was coming to help, but it seemed that you had the situation well in hand, Sir," Alfred explained. He had been in the hall when he heard Bruce and Dick voices. His presence was unnecessary.

"Didn't seem that way to me," Bruce sighed. "I think Dick has a better grasp of what to say than I do."

"Well, Master Dick has always been more adept at dealing with people than you, Sir," Alfred said, drily.

"Thanks," Bruce answered, sarcastically. He wasn't bothered in the least by what the butler had said. He knew it was true. Dick was the good cop, he was the bad cop. It was how they worked off each other. Plus, he loved his son's friendly and open personality. Bruce's mother would have called him a 'social butterfly'. He wished so much his parents could have met his children. They would have loved them. Come to think of it, when had Jason become his child?

"I strive to be honest, Master Bruce," Alfred told the Dark Knight.

"Would you mind if we eat in the kitchen?" Bruce asked. He may own Wayne Manor, but Alfred ran it. Tradition and ceremony were very important to the old Englishman.

"May I inquire why the change, Master Bruce?" Alfred's eyebrows were up.

"Jason's uncomfortable in the dining room, not to mention most of the house," Bruce answered. "The kitchen doesn't seem to be as intimidating to him. If he's scared it's going to make it hard for him to eat, and he needs to eat." Dick had had the same trouble when he'd first found himself in the Manor.

Alfred gave in. "Very well, but I assume things will return to normal once Master Jason becomes used to the Manor."

Once breakfast was over Bruce went into his home office to get some work done before Mrs. Felter got there. Things like this made him more nervous than he'd like to admit. He needed to get back to Wayne Tower, but that could wait for now. He had taken a few days off after this had all started, but he wanted to show Jason what he could someday be a part of if he wanted it.

Alfred walked into the office at that moment, holding the morning paper. He didn't look very pleased. "Sir, it appears someone hacked into social services main office last night and stole part of Master Jason's file. Unfortunately, the pictures of his injuries were printed in the paper." He was fuming. How could some hooligan invade the privacy of a child like that? It was monstrous!

"What!" Bruce snapped. He snatched the paper from Alfred and sure enough, right on the front page was Jason. The camera was focused on the bruises on the right side of his face. It had caught the wild roughness and fierce will in his big sea blue eyes.

The headline read: 'Wayne Foster Abused Street Kid' in large black letters. Bruce almost tore the paper in two, but refrained from doing so. Why would they print the pictures? What was wrong with people? A sudden terrible thought struck him. Had they found out about what Jason had told the Dr. about Peter and Kate. He quickly read the article, but there was about the murder or even how Jason had gotten his injuries. He sighed in relief.

"I would have disposed of it, Sir, but I thought you would want to see for yourself," Alfred said shortly.

Bruce sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead, where a headache was forming. "You were right." He threw the paper in the trash. "I'm suing Gotham Journal. They'll be ruined by the time I'm done with them. Did any other papers run the pictures?" This had to be illegal. He was a minor and a ward of the state. Heads would roll for this. And what about Peter? His parental rights had been revoked when he'd gone to jail, not that anyone had bothered to find out where his son was, but now that monster would know where Jason was and Bruce was positive his foster son didn't want that.

"Not that I'm aware of. Are you going to tell the young master about this, Sir?" Alfred asked. He was going to hear about the theft one way or another, and it would most likely be better coming from Bruce than someone else.

"I will later," Batman answered. "I'd rather he not be upset right before Mrs. Felter gets here."

"From what you said Mrs. Felter seem to think, you will take good care of Master Jason," Alfred commented. Going through the system with Dick had been terrifying. Never knowing if he was going to be taken away at any moment had been emotionally exhausting.

"I hope so, but I'll keep having to prove that to her and Jay," Bruce told Alfred.


	11. Chapter 11

An hour or so later Mrs. Felter arrived at Wayne Manor. Alfred showed her into Bruce's office.

"I have to say I've always wanted to see this place from the inside," Ashley said, looking around.

"Well, now's your chance. Dick took Jay off somewhere so it might take a little wandering to find them," Bruce said. Did he sound like he wasn't keeping an eye on his kids? He did. He knew this would happen. It was already going badly. Why did he think he could do this again? He forced himself to stop. He was nervous, but he wasn't going to let that show. He had faced Joker, and this was nothing compared to that. It was only the future of his family, no big deal, right?

"That will give us time to talk," Felter said as they began walking through the Manor. "Now how has Jason been settling in, in your opinion?"

"I think he's doing alright. He's jumpy, but I guess that's something he'll always have to deal with," Bruce told her. Was this a right or wrong answer thing? Did he answer right?  
"In time he'll hopefully be able to move past that if he gets the help he needs now," Ashley said, writing something down in her file. What was she writing? Had he messed up?

"Do you have any suggestions to convince him he's safe here?" Bruce asked. As far as Mrs. Felter was concerned he hadn't studied psychology extensively. Plus, it would help if he asked her questions about Jason's care, and there was the off chance she'd know something he hadn't thought of.

"That depends. What scares him?" Ashley asked. She had a few ideas, but there were usually just little everyday things that would frighten an abused child.

"Me for starters. I move fast or raise my voice even a little, and he's walking on eggshells for hours after," Bruce said. He should have clarified that he hadn't raised his voice at Jason. It was a phone call. Why did he mention that? If Mrs. Felter had any sense she wouldn't allow him to take care of Jason or Dick. He was so unsure of what to do and what not to do. There had to be other people who were better with kids. He pushed down that thought. There might be other people, but none of them loved Dick and Jason as if they were their own children as he did.

"That is to be expected. Jason most likely associates any parental figure or guardian with his father. Once he sees that you are not a threat, he'll start to be more at ease around you," Ashley told him. Many people couldn't understand that the response they got from their foster children wasn't caused from a desire to be difficult; it was conditioning. They were essentially brainwashed, and then to be put in a place where the 'normal' treatment wasn't shown it made them act out.

"And Jay goes from two extremes. He'll get angry about something and has no problem telling me off; then when he gets scared he's backed into a corner begging me not to hurt him," Bruce told her. "It hurts to see him like that." It physically hurt to watch Jason's terror. He just wanted to take it away and carry it himself.

"I've seen that very often. He's angry, scared and trying to understand everything that's happening to him. He is used to a certain kind of behavior and treatment from people, and he's not seeing that from you, Mr. Pennyworth or Richard, so he is reacting in the only way he knows how, which is scared and angry," Ashley explained. "I know foster children like Jason can become discouraging when they don't respond to the idea of being loved and wanted."

"I don't think he's having so much a problem with being cared for. It's that he's just so afraid of being beaten," Bruce said. No child should have to be afraid like that. He wanted to have Peter prosecuted, but that would mean Jason would have to tell a jury what was done to him, although that would happen anyway if he or the police ever found Heywood. So far there was only a missing person report with no leads and no suspects. Her boyfriend would, of course, be considered, but few people knew who Catherine was seeing, and the ones that did weren't talking. Batman would simply have to find the woman.

Bruce brought up the hacked systems and the stolen pictures for which Mrs. Felter apologized. "I can't really talk about it. Open investigation and all that. I'm sure you understand."

"I do," Bruce answered. He planned to launch an investigation of his own.

"How did Jason react to it?" Ashley asked. That couldn't have been easy for him to see.

"He hasn't seen it yet," Bruce told her. He didn't want Jason to see it, but he should know what was going on.

They reached the back patio and heard the sound of happy chatter and laughter. Bruce opened the French doors to find both Dick and Jason standing on their hands, legs in the air and faces bright red.

"What are you doing?" Bruce said, laughter in his voice.

"Seeing who can do a hand stand the longest," Dick answered. He saw Mrs. Felter and kicking his feet over, he landed in a bridge. He then pulled himself up right. Jason didn't think he'd be able to copy Dick, so he put his feet down without showing off. "Are you Mrs. Felter" Robin asked, smiling welcomingly.

"Yes, I am, and you must be Richard," Ashley answered, offering a hand to the young hero who shook it.

"Call me 'Dick'," Richard told her. She had to like him, Bruce and Alfred, or she would tell her supervisor to take Jason away, so he was going to be as polite and friendly as he could. Bruce had always said he could get anything he wanted just by smiling at people.

They stood outside and talked for a while, before Ashley turned to Jason. "Now why don't you show me your room?" she suggested.

"Can Bruce and Dick come?" Jason asked. He didn't realize how clingy he'd become in just the short time he'd been there, but having them around made him feel better even if he was still scared of Bruce. Talk about being conflicted.

"I'm sorry, Dear, but you and I have to talk, just the two of us for a bit, and then I have to talk with Bruce, Dick and Mr. Pennyworth," Ashley said gently. She was a little worried she might get a meltdown to that answer, but Jason's shoulders only hung slightly.

Jay didn't want to have to tell people anymore things about himself, his life with his parents or his life when he was on the streets. "Alright," he said. "Follow me. It's upstairs." He led Ashley to his new room.

"Do you like it?" She asked. She noted it was already filled with toys and books and clothes. There was also a large teddy bear in a place of honor in the middle of the bed. She was glad to see Wayne was going all out for his foster son. The social worker frowned when she thought she smelled smoke, but it was done a moment later.

"Yes. It's really nice and warm," Jason said seriously. He sat down at his desk, while Felter took a seat on the reading chair.

"I'm happy to hear that. Is there anything you don't like about your new home?" Ashley asked.

"Just the rules," Jason answered. "I have to tell someone if I go outside. No cussing, no fighting, be respectful. Don't go in the pool, don't pick the lock on the doors." Dick had planned on taking him swimming in the indoor pool, but Jason didn't know how to swim. Bruce had made it clear he was not to go near the pool until he knew how to swim, and Jason didn't argue the point. He had no desire to drown.

"A lot of those things are considered normal. Mr. Wayne wants you to be safe and careful," Ashley explained. No picking the locks was a new one even for her.

"I figured. It's just that's not my normal, but I want it to be," Jason said. He looked down at the floor. "I've been trying to get something straight, and I can't figure it out."

"What's that," Ashley asked. She'd been writing down notes this whole time.

"Why is it that complete strangers care more about what happens to me than my parents did?" Jason questioned. She worked with kids like him, so she must have some idea. He wasn't even sure Wayne cared about him, but it felt like he did and he was doing everything imaginable to prove it.

"I can't answer that, Jason. I've met many children who've had that same question," Felter said, sadly.

"I just don't understand that," Jason told her. "I never did anything to my old man, and he beat me every chance he got. I try to steal from Bruce, and he gives me food and a place to stay. How does that make any sense?" How could his parents not love him like they were supposed to?

"It doesn't and what your father did probably never will. I know this is going to sound pointless coming from someone know doesn't understand exactly how you feel, but I want you to try very hard not to let what your father did ruin your life. You deserve better than to be consumed by it," Ashley told him. Jason had a rare opportunity to escape his troubled passed. He had a change at a normal happy life, and she wanted it so much for him. She saw too many kids whose pasts destroyed them before they even had a shot at a good life.

Jason's eyes were off the floor in an instant, and she saw the fierce will in them. "I've never let him win, and I won't now that I'm free from him."


	12. Chapter 12

After much begging on Jason's part, Bruce rescheduled his dentist appointment. After he saw the newspaper he figured that was why Bruce had let him off the hook. Jason honestly didn't know what to think about it. He didn't like that they'd printed his picture, but it was going to happen at some point. Better to get it over with now.

"Now that they got pictures of me, will the paparazzi leave me along?" Jason asked, his voice full of hope.

"Unfortunately, no," Bruce said. They were sitting in the library. That was one of the few rooms in which Jason seemed comfortable. "But it won't be too much longer. I'm planning to hold a party here. It will satisfy everyone's curiosity, and then you should get some peace." He had something else to discuss with his foster son, and he wasn't really sure how to go about bringing it up. He finally just dove in. "I've been looking into Peter," he said shortly. Bruce saw Jason stiffen at the mention of his father.

"What about him?" Jason asked. Why did that man keep coming up? He was supposed to be out of Jay's life forever. He never wanted to hear the name 'Peter' again.

"Well, I think he should be in prison a lot longer then he's going to get," Bruce said, carefully. He wasn't supposed to know about Heywood. Jason had to tell him, and then he could call the police. It would be odd for Batman to be looking into a two-year-old missing persons case that bore all the markings of someone having just up and left. There was no reason to think anything nefarious had befallen Catherine.

"If you want me to testify about what he did to me, forget it," Jason snapped. He'd barely been able to talk about it with Bruce and that doctor. No way on earth was he getting up in front of a room full of people and telling them.

"You don't have to," Bruce said, quickly. He was losing any chance of this working out. Maybe it would be better to wait until later, but Catherine needed justice. She should have a proper burial. That was all he could do for the dead, and he was going to do it. "But is there anything else he did that the police can get him on, that would put him away for longer?"

Jason turned his eyes on Bruce, searching the man's face. Did he know about Kate? He at least suspected something had happened. Why was he so afraid to tell? He'd done nothing wrong. Sure, he should have called the police, but Peter had made it clear he would ended up like Kate if he opened his mouth, and he had had no way of knowing which ones were on Two-Face's payroll. They would report to his dad what he'd said. He could tell Bruce, right? He was Batman; he hunted murderers. Jason took a deep breath, and once again told what had happened that night.

"Don't worry, Jason. We'll take care of this," Bruce said gently. They were getting somewhere. He'd call Gordon and get the man to send some of his trusted detectives out to interview Jason. Then they would just have to get Peter to talk, or find the body. Hopefully they could do this without Jason having to testify. Bruce honestly didn't know if he'd be able to handle it, after everything he'd been through.

At that moment Alfred walked into the room. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, sir, but I believe I smell smoke somewhere in the house. Master Dick mentioned smelling it too." They'd looked, but had been unable to find the source.

Bruce stood up. "Did you look outside?" If there was a window opened, and a fire somewhere in the area, that would be the most obvious explanation.

"Yes, Sir. I could not see any smoke nor could the young master," Alfred said. He glanced at Jason. It was cigarette smoke, and he had smelled the same thing several times since Master Jason had come to the Manor. It was mostly on the clothes he brought to the laundry room.

Bruce read that look easily. He turned and looked down at Jason, who had something between defiance and embarrassment written on his face.

"Jason?" Bruce asked. His tone was stern.

"What?" This was going to be one of those angry outburst situations. Batman could tell by Jay's voice.

"Do you smoke?" Bruce asked. He thought Jason might lie, but given the smoky smell he doubted it. He'd noticed that too, but he'd just assumed someone had been burning trash or leaves, and the smoke had drifted. That apparently wasn't the case.

"Yeah, because that's some more of your business," Jason answered, flippantly. He couldn't keep anything to himself in this stupid house. Batman had his nose in everything. He clearly hadn't heard that people liked privacy. The thief knew Bruce would take away what was left of his cigarettes. He only had a few, and he had no way of getting more. Maybe he could slip into Gotham with no one noticing. Yeah, that wasn't going to work.

"I don't want you doing that," Bruce said, seriously. "It's not healthy, especially not at your age. Now give them to me."

"It's not like I'm walking around with a cigarette in my mouth," Jason said, getting annoyed. He just had one when he was really stressed, which had been more often lately, but that didn't matter. It was his body, and he could do what he wanted.

"Jason, I said something," Bruce said. His voice had grown cold.

"And how are you going to make me?" Jason taunted. Bruce couldn't make him do a thing. The only way Jason would cooperate was to be starved or beaten. That was what it was like in the Alley. He had no reason to obey Wayne when he didn't want to.

"Don't talk back to me," Bruce ordered. He could just go search Jason's room, but he had said something, and he expected to be obeyed and respected, whether Jason felt like it or not.

"Oh, yeah? Stop me," Jason dared. His fear was forgotten for a moment. He was tired of having to behave. That wasn't how he acted on the streets, so why should he act that way now? Plus, he wasn't giving up his cigarettes.

That was it! Bruce caught hold of Jason's arm and half dragged him out of the library. Jason stumbled after, trying to get his balance. Alarm and fear were on his face. He was in deep trouble.

"When I say something, you will listen to me," Bruce said. His voice had gone stone cold, but he was perfectly calm and in control. One would not have thought that by looking at him, and Jason did not think it now. He fully expected a merciless thrashing. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? Was that really so hard to do?

Bruce hauled Jason up the stairs to the boy's room. He let go of Jason once they were in the large room. The thief darted away to the far corner, white with fright. "I'm not going to beat you, but I still expect you to listen when I tell you something," Bruce said. "Now where are the cigarettes?" Jay pointed to under his bed. "Get them."

Jason scrambled across the room and took his dwindling supply of cigarettes out from the boards of the bedframe.

"Matches or a lighter?" Bruce asked.

Jason dug a lighter out of his pocket and placed it in Bruce's large open palm along with his cigarettes. He was scared, but he wasn't going to freak out like he had the other day, at least he hoped he wasn't going to.

"Is there anything else you brought here?" Bruce questioned. He hadn't thought it was necessary to search Jason, when he'd picked the thief up. The was obviously a mistake.

Jason gave a slight nod. His terror was now doubled. He didn't think he could survive Batman's anger. He'd barely lived through Peter's.

"What is it?" Bruce asked. He was expecting drugs of some kind. Jason was scared of heroin. That didn't mean meth or LSD bothered him.

"You'll kill me if I tell you," Jason's voice shook as he spoke.

"I'm not going to kill you," Bruce sighed. He should have been more patient downstairs, but he hadn't known what to do. Dick had never downright refused to do what he was told.

"You wanna bet?" Jason said. A small bit of his defiance had returned.

"Jason, I won't tell you again," Bruce told him. He had no clue what he was going to do if Jason didn't do as he was told. Maybe Alfred would have an idea. Growing up, his father would take him over his knee if Bruce acted like this, but that wasn't a good idea to do to Jason. In his mind it would be no different than beating him, and Bruce wasn't going to do that to him.

Jason pulled a Glock handgun out from under his pillow. It was loaded and ready to be used. Bruce took the gun. He carefully removed the clip and the round in the chamber. Children and guns did not mix, ever. He didn't use guns, but he didn't have anything against them. They were tools that could save lives or take them. The same was true for much of the gear he used.

"Did you sleep with this under your head?" Bruce asked.

Jason nodded. He always did. He had to protect himself. He'd been living on the streets, so not exactly the safest place, and his old home hadn't been much better.

"You could have shot yourself," Bruce said seriously. He could see it all vividly. Jason's hand under the pillow, holding the gun. It goes off, killing him. A bloody scene would meet him when he opened that door.

"It wouldn't have gone off. The safety-," Jason started to say.

"Is not something you trust your life to," Bruce interrupted. "It can easily be flicked off." The thief could have simply pulled out the gun and shot him, Dick or Alfred the night Batman brought him there. He should have been more suspicious.

Jason saw that was true, but he didn't think that would have happened. "So, what's my punishment?" Sarcasm had crept back into his voice and manner. He was scared of what Bruce would do. Would he be sent to a foster home or back to the streets? It wouldn't look good to send the kid he'd picked up a few days ago packing, but no one would blame him.

"I don't know," Bruce said, thinking. When Dick acted up he couldn't be Robin for a while, but that wouldn't work for Jason. Batman wasn't going to make Jason stay in his room. That felt too much like imprisoning him, and Bruce didn't want the eleven-year old to feel as if Wayne Manor was a prison, and he a prisoner any more than he already did.

"Couldn't I just miss a few meals, and we call it good?" Jason suggested hopefully. He could handle that no problem. He'd miss Alfred's cooking, but he'd gone a few days without eating. He wouldn't mind having to do it again.

"Absolutely not. First of all, you are too thin as it is. Second, I would never starve you," Batman said, seriously. Did Jay honestly think Bruce was that much of a monster? He would think of something reasonable. "You need to quit smoking."

"And how am I supposed to do that? They're not really easy to get off," Jason pointed out.

"I'll get you some nicotine gum," Bruce answered. Did you need a prescription for that? "Are you using any drugs?" He was tempted to just take some blood and do a tox screen.

"I know better than that," Jason huffed. He didn't need to be dealing with that crap along with everything else. He sat down on his bed, and Bruce sat down next to him.

"Considering you sleep with a loaded gun near your head, I have plenty of reason to ask," Bruce told him. He still couldn't believe Jay had done something that stupid.

Jason rolled his eyes. "I have to protect myself somehow." Bruce knew what it was like out there. One night, Jason had been walking to his latest home, which was a cardboard box in a dark cold alley, when one of Penguin's guys had recognized him as 'Whiskey Todd's' kid. The freak had blocked him off from the street. At that time, it was a known fact among the gangs that he would carry meth for a small fee. The man had demanded the drugs at gun point. Jason had smiled at him and said okay. Instead of drugs the man found himself looking down the barrel of a Glock. After that the gun was always on him. It kept him alive and safe.

"Do you really feel so threatened here?" Bruce asked, sadly. If that was the case he wasn't doing a very good job as a foster dad.

"Once in a while, yes. But most of the time I feel safer here than I ever have anywhere else," Jason said, looking out the window. This place was so peaceful and cut off from the rest of the world, he could almost believe Wayne Manor was the only house in the whole world. Gotham didn't exist, and neither did the horrors he'd lived through. It was all a terrible dream that he'd woken up from, and this house was where he'd always been and where he would always stay.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel less in danger?" Bruce questioned. If there were things he could avoid that would help he would do so.

Jason shrugged. "Some of it isn't something you can do anything about. It's me expecting you to beat me. Dragging me up the stairs like that didn't really help, but I kind of had it coming."

"No, you didn't," Bruce said. He felt nothing but self-condemnation. "I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have scared you like that. You deserve better than that."

"I 'deserve' to be in juvie," Jason told him. "I stole, ran drugs and worked in a chop shop. That's not really a recommendation for a foster home." Ashley had said he deserved better. Did these people not realize what he was?

"You did what you had to," Bruce said. A thought struck him. "How did you get work in a chop shop. You have to have extensive knowledge of cars."

"I know all about cars. Cars, guns, shoplifting, and drugs pretty much make up my education," Jason said. "That's why I was taking your tires. They're bulletproof, so I could have gotten a lot for bringing them in."

"Speaking of education, I need to find you a tutor," Bruce said. There was so much to do, and so much to deal with.

Jason sighed loudly. "Why can't we just forget about that? It's not like knowing a bunch of useless facts is going to do me any good."

"I wouldn't be helping you if I didn't make you get an education. There's so much you have to learn to make it in this world," Bruce said. He suddenly took in the situation. He was sitting there with a gun, a clip, a lighter and a box of cigarettes in his hands, and he was talking about the importance of education. It was then he realized why Jason had been talking so much. "Are you using a red herring to get out of being punished?" Bruce asked. He would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed with Jason's tactic.

"What's a red herring?" Jason asked, a little confused. After realizing he wasn't going to get off with missing a dinner, he gotten Bruce talking. He knew if he brought up his education or lack thereof, Bruce would start thinking about having to find a tutor again, and he'd forget about their current issue. That had always worked on his mom.

"Misleading me by talking about something else," Bruce explained.

"Well, can you blame me for trying?" Jason shrugged. He should have known Batman wouldn't fall for that trick.

"Because you were disrespectful you are not allowed to play any video games for two weeks, and you'll be helping me clean out the garage next weekend," Bruce said after thinking for a moment. That seemed reasonable given the circumstances.

"Isn't cleaning the garage Alfred's job? I always thought you rich people never did things like that," Jason said, a little annoyed at his punishment. Bruce knew how much he loved video games, and two weeks was way too long, at least in his mind. He didn't even know if the billionaire was going to keep him around that long.

"Most don't, but I do," Bruce answered. He wasn't looking forward to Jason's first meeting with said rich people. It would be soon. The annual Wayne Manor Halloween Party was coming up soon.

"I guess I can't really argue," Jason muttered.

"Nope," Bruce said, smiling at Jay's serious expression. Some of the faces he made reminded Bruce of his own father and himself.

"I want to make a deal with you," Jason announced, without warning.

"Okay," Bruce said, not really sure what Jason had in mind. He had a difficult time reading the thief every once in a while.

"I want my gun back, loaded with rubber bullets," Jay added the second part before Batman could say 'no' outright. "And I want to work for you like Dick does. In exchange, I'll stop smoking, I'll clean up my act and I'll help Al around here."


	13. Chapter 13

To be honest, Bruce was not expecting that at all, but he should have seen it coming. Jason clearly looked up to Dick, so it made sense he'd want to help, but that wasn't enough of a reason to allow Jason to become a crime fighter.

"Why do you want to fight crime?" Batman demanded.

"Well, for one thing it's really cool." Jason could tell by the look on Bruce's face that answer wasn't going to cut it. He became sober. "Look, you know what I went through because of my parents, and what I had to do to survive. It's not right, and I don't want anyone else to have to deal with that when I can do something to stop it. Plus, I know the streets better than even you. I know people in every gang, crime family, and hole in this city. They trust me because I'm one of them, and that's an asset you can't afford to pass up." Jason hoped he'd made his point.

"Quite the negotiator, aren't you?" Bruce said. He realized that Jason's first answer was mostly just a show. "I will think about you joining the fight, but I expect you to do those things you said without getting a mask for it. Also, I will let you have a gun with rubber bullets if that's what it takes to make you feel safe, but I don't want it under your pillow. It will be in a gun safe at all times. You will be reading up on gun safety and writing a five-page paper on the topic."

"And you'll think about letting me be a hero," Jason double checked. Never make a deal without everything being clear. That was just asking to be hoodwinked.

Bruce nodded. "I will." The training he'd put Dick through was something most people wouldn't even consider attempting. There was a good chance Jay would give up.

"When will you make up your mind?" Jason pushed. Patience was one of his issues.

"You'll know when I decide."

It wasn't an hour later that Jason found himself sitting across from two Gotham City Police detectives in Bruce's office. Their names were Harvey Bullock and Renee Montoya. He didn't like this. Talking to cops was bad. He had no way of knowing which were good and which were being paid off.

"It's alright, Jason," Bruce said, taking Jay's small hand in his. "They're here to help, I promise."

Jason looked at them wearily. Batman would know if they were bad cops, and he wouldn't let them talk to him—right? He wouldn't even let them on the grounds. So it must be safe. He finally started talking and once he did it all came out. He described in great what he had seen that night.

"Kate's neck was bent all funny, and there were red hand prints on it. Her eyes were red, too," Jason said. His dad had had an issue grabbing other peoples' necks when he was angry, so it made sense that he would end up strangling someone.

"Do you know what happened to Kate?" Montoya asked, gently. Jason was a good witness. He was clear about what he had seen, and he didn't presume to know what he hadn't actually witnessed. Plus, his story didn't change. It was always the same.

Jason shook his head. "I tried to get my old man talking when he was drunk, but that never worked very well." He didn't notice it, but he was holding tightly to Bruce's hand. Batman, on the contrary, noted it at once. It warmed his heart to know that Jason was taking comfort in his presence there. He'd half expected Jason to tell him to get out. Maybe they were getting somewhere.

"Would you be willing to testify?" Bullock asked. If they didn't have a body they would need Jason's account. They didn't have anything but a missing person's report and Jason's retelling of that night. A jury might believe Jason, but it was kind of risky.

"I'll testify when prisons are escape proof, and my old man forgets I'm the one who told," Jason answered. Peter would come for him. No matter what else happened the thug would make sure his son paid for that level of betrayal.

"We can protect you," Montoya told him. They needed Jason if they were going to get Peter for this.

"Look, Kate's dead. There's nothing anyone can do about that. It doesn't make any sense for me to get myself killed over someone who isn't even here anymore," Jason said.

"If you were murdered wouldn't you want someone to catch the killer?" Bullock tried.

"Well, if I testify I'll get to find out," Jason said. He looked at Bruce for help. He couldn't get up there and say what had happened. His father would be right there, watching him, planning what he would do to him.

"It's okay," Bruce said, squeezing his hand, comfortingly. He looked at the detectives. "If you find Kate, you won't need Jason, right?" He knew the answer. He was just trying to give Jay a break from the questioning.

"We'd still need proof Todd killed her," Bullock told the billionaire. He couldn't blame the kid for not wanting to tell a court what he knew. At that age, Bullock wouldn't have wanted to either, not under these circumstances.

"What if he confessed?" Bruce asked. There was almost zero chance of that happening. Todd was an old man when it came to this game. He wouldn't talk no matter what.

"If he confessed, sure we could use it at trial," Bullock said.

"I find it unlikely someone like Todd is going to unburden his soul to us," Montoya said, more to her partner than to the others.

That got Jason's attention. "What if he were convinced to confess?" He was already forming a plan. The big question was would it work?

"It's not the wild west, kid. We can't go around beating confessions out of people," Bullock answered. That wouldn't get them anywhere and would hurt their case.

"I'm not talking about beating him up. Don't the police make deals not to charge people with one thing if they confess to another?" Jason asked. He knew about the law. First rule of breaking something, know about it. There were ins and outs that anyone could slip through.

"Yes," Montoya answered. She didn't quite see what the kid had in mind. There was no way Todd would confess to murder to avoid a robbery charge. They could charge him with child abuse, but Jason wouldn't testify and the defense could easily say Jason had gotten his injuries while on the streets which was completely plausible. He lived a dangerous life.

"If he was charged with child abuse and convicted it would be a death sentence, especially in Stone Gate. He knows that. The only thing my old man cares about is his own neck," Jason said. If there was something criminals hated more than cops, it was criminals who abused kids. They usually ended up dead in some dark corner of the prison. It was some strange code of ethics, and it was lethal to go against them.

"You'll testify to the abuse?" Montoya asked. She didn't see his logic at all.

"Heck no." That would be worse than telling about the murder. Killing your girlfriend in a drunken rage was one thing, but almost beating your kid to death was on an entirely different level. "I have proof he did it," Jason answered. That got everyone's attention.

"What proof?" Bruce asked. Why was Jason just now telling him about this?

"I sto- borrowed one of those old video cameras," Jason said. "and set it up on a shelf in our apartment. Whenever I knew he was going to be in one of his moods, I turned it on. I also documented all of my injuries after he killed Kate. I figured I should I have something on him in case he ever tried to sell me out. I didn't think it would come in handy to get him for murder. He tells about Kate, and I won't show the tapes."

"So, you'll blackmail him, but you won't testify," Bullock huffed. This kid clearly had to think through his plan a little longer. Todd would be just as likely to kill his son for blackmailing him as he would for his testimony.

Jason looked up at Bruce. "If he sends someone to kill me will you make sure the tapes get out?" There was no one else he could ask to do this. He didn't trust anyone else.

"That's not going to happen, but I will take care of it," Bruce promised. This wasn't the type of thing he thought he'd be promising to do for his foster son. If Todd did come or send a friend, they would learn what he was truly capable of. "Where are these tapes?"

"My apartment," Jason said. He had planned on never seeing that place again, but plans rarely work out. Hopefully this one did.

"It will be fine," Dick said, reassuringly as they drove through Crime Alley. Bruce hadn't wanted his eldest to come, but once Robin found out he insisted on going. He wanted to see Jason's old home. No doubt he had stood on the roof at least once while on patrol, or he even could have gone through it looking for a criminal. He hated to think he'd been so close to someone who needed saving and not known. Odder still was to think that that person would become his brother.

Jason only nodded. He hadn't realized going back to that place would bother him this much. He lifted his head and silently told himself to get over it. It was a building for crying out loud. What was he, four? They stopped in front of the dilapidated apartment building. It looked worse than he remembered. Was that because of where he had been these past days? The detectives pulled up behind Bruce and parked. Harvey and Renee got out.

"Lead the way, kid," Bullock said. This wasn't a safe place to stand around, and they all had targets painted on their backs, Wayne and Grayson for the money, and he and his partner for the badges they wore. The only relatively safe one was Jason.


	14. Chapter 14

As they walked inside, Bruce saw something change in the way Jason moved. He was still tense, but there was something else. It was the way he walked, avoiding the boards that would creak the loudest and side stepping the occasional beer bottle or still smoldering cigarette. He was straining his ears, listening for a step, a voice, anything that meant they needed to get out of there. When they passed certain doors he would move to the other side of the hall. He knew where the danger was. To put it simple he was in his element. At last they came to a door marked 4D. The marker hung crooked, and there were dents in the door from what looked like it having been kicked. Jason kneeled down and took a key out of a small hole in the floor.

"Maybe someone else has moved in already," Dick said. He didn't much like the idea of being shot because someone thought they were being burglarized.

"My old man paid the rent on time for once. The landlady usually waits four or five days to rent out an apartment if it's been paid and the renter is in jail, just to see if they'll make bail," Jason explained. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The small two room apartment was a mess. A rat scurried across the room and under the sagging couch as all five of them spread out. The room stunk of beer, smoke, mold and human sweat. Everything was covered in a thick layer of grime.

Bruce's eyebrows knit together in disgust. How could Jason live in this filth? "Where is your room?" he asked. He wanted to see it for some reason.

"Over there," Jason said waving to a door on the left. He had gone into what was supposed to be the kitchen, but it was missing a stove and a refrigerator. He started rummaging around under the sink.

Bruce and Dick both went to the door Jason had indicated. It was hard to open, but Batman finally got it with a hard jerk. Inside there was an old, dirty mattress on the floor with a blanket covered in holes carelessly thrown over it. There was a small dresser that was so warped the draws wouldn't close all the way, so they hung open to show what few belongings they held.

"How could anyone live here?" Dick asked in a whisper, so Jason wouldn't hear. His family had been poor, sure, but this was different. They had taken good care of the few things they had. Dick didn't even know how to describe this place.

"People live where they have to," Bruce said. He could only imagine where else Jason had gone. The streets were worse than this, but they must have been a refuge compared to what Peter had done in these small rooms.

They went back to find Jason setting old VHS tapes on the kitchen table. "That's everything. We should probably make copies, just in case."

"So how you wanna play this, Montoya?" Bullock asked.

"We'll go see Todd. Lay out the situation and see if he feels like talking," Renee answered.

Jason doubted his father would talk to the police. If it came down to it, he'd go see Peter himself. He thought about seeing his old man again, and he began to shake slightly.

"You okay?" Bruce asked. He'd noticed right away that Jason was upset.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just cold," Jason answered shortly. "Let's get out of here. This place stinks." He was the first one out of the building. Within a matter of seconds, he was back in Bruce's car waiting for his guardian.

Bruce shook the detectives' hands before they got in their car. "Thank you for this." Hopefully this would cause Peter to be put away for life. Then maybe Jason would be able to rest easy on that point.

"Sure," Bullock answered. "We'll be in touch. By the way, that's a smart kid you've got on your hands. He thinks like a cop and a criminal," the detective laughed. It was a good thing that kid was off the streets. He had the potential to be a very dangerous man when he got older.

"I know," Bruce answered. Jason was smart. He approached a problem with the sole mind set of solving it, and he made sure he was in control of the situation by the end of it. He had stuck around and took beatings so that he would be able to protect himself in the future. He knew what he had to do to, and he did it. Bruce got in the car and drove home.

Jason was sitting in the library the next day. His mouth hurt after having five cavities filled. Going to the dentist had been a horrible experience. Jason had told Bruce and the dentist what he thought of both of them, none of which should never be repeated in polite society. When he was feeling better he was sent to the library to work on his gun safety paper.

He heard the doorbell ring. Jay got up and looked out into the hall. It had only been a day since he'd asked Bruce to train him as a crime fighter, and he still hadn't gotten an answer. How long would it take? Would Batman say no because he'd refused to testify? Did Bruce think he was a coward? That seemed like reason enough to him for a refusal, but what then? He'd become a burden and an annoyance. He would be sent away. That was a terrifying thought. He wanted to stay here. He wanted this to be his home, and he wanted these people to be his family.

"Hello, Ms. Shore," Alfred said, opening the door. "Master Bruce is in his office. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you, Alfred," a woman with thick blond hair said as she stepped inside. She slipped her jacket off and handed it to the butler to hang up. "I just flew in from Hawaii. I know I wasn't supposed to be back in town until next week, but I heard that Bruce found another little project," Ms. Shore said, coolly. There was something icy and unpleasant about her.

Jason didn't like being called a 'little project'. It made him sound like a broken piece of furniture that Bruce was trying to put back together in his spare time. Where did she get off talking like that? Who was Ms. Shore anyway? Still fuming, Jason went back to his seat trying to convince himself that if Bruce said 'yes' to their deal he'd work so hard that he wouldn't be a burden or a charity case.

Alfred stepped into the room fifteen minutes later. "Master Bruce requests your presence in the billiard room at once, young sir."

"I don't think that's a 'request'," Jason said, rolling his eyes. He got to his feet and followed Alfred into the billiard room. He'd only been in that room for a few minutes when Dick was showing him around, and he didn't like it at all. It felt too much like some of the places the heads of the crime families hung out. There was one-time Jason had gone to drop off a large package at Falcone's place. The problem was the guy Jason knew wasn't there, and he was suspected of being a spy. He'd been taken into a room very much like the one in Wayne Manor. There had been a pool table in the center of the large room. A bar to his right and to his left a few chairs. He'd been told to sit down and keep his mouth shut. There had been about ten to fifteen people around, all acting like this was some kind of party. Their guns were the only indicator that there was something sinister about them. That was when Falcone walked up to him.

Carmine Falcone A.K.A The Roman was a mobster from the old days. He believed in respect and honor and putting fifty rounds in his enemy while they ate at his own table. He was polite and menacing at the same time. "And who is this?" he'd asked one of the members of his 'family'.

"He said his name is Jason Todd. Said Johnny told him to come here with the shipment," the man had answered in a heavy New Jersey accent.

"Is that true?" Carmine had questioned turning a cold eye on Jason who had nodded.

"Yes…sir." Jason never called anyone 'sir', but that time something had told him to show the proper respect if he wanted to walk out of that place in one piece.

"Johnny isn't here," Falcone had told him. "So, I'm thinking I should shoot you. Saves time trying to figure this all out." He had pulled out a gun and held it inches from Jason's face.

Jason had gone still. That was before he started carrying a gun and even if he had had it, he would have been dead before he got to it. "Well, while you're thinking about it, why don't you just do it?" he had shot back. Jason had had no wish to die, but to show his fear would have been an invitation to kill him.

The Roman had laughed and put away his gun. Some called Johnny, and everything was sorted out. The instant Jason had gotten out of that place, he'd started running. When he had finally stopped he found himself at his mother's grave. He'd sat there for hours sick with fear.

Jason snapped back to the present with a slight jump. Bruce was standing behind the bar, pouring a drink for Shore. They were both talking and laughing. There was something different about the way Bruce was acting, but Jason didn't quite know what it was. Like, he was overly happy, maybe. Bruce's happy was quiet and calm, not this grinning fool.

The billionaire looked up and noticed him. "Oh, Lorna, this is Jason Todd. Jason, this is Lorna Shore, my girlfriend," Bruce said, waving his foster son over to the bar.

Jason climbed up on one of the stools. He hadn't seen Bruce drink anything but coffee or water while he'd been there and seeing him drink alcohol now bothered Jason. It was too sensitive an issue for him. Bruce knew how what his father had done affected him, so why was he being asked to sit there while Bruce and his girlfriend drank? Batman had been so careful about stuff like that, and this complete turnaround left Jason confused and a little scared. Had he done something to upset Bruce, and now the man was getting back at him? He had said some pretty horrible things while at the dentist's. Maybe that was it.

"It's nice to meet you, Jason," Lorna said, pasting a smile on her face. Jason shook the hand she offered.

"It's nice to meet you, too," Jason answered. He didn't like her at all, and he could tell she didn't like him.

"My, what a little gentleman you are," Lorna laughed. She then downed most of her drink and turned back to Bruce.

"Thanks," Jason said, not at all sure how to respond to that. He looked at Bruce silently asking for help or to be told to leave the room. It would be the same thing at that point, but his foster dad barely glanced at him, which was the complete opposite of how he'd acted from the moment Jason had stepped into the Batmobile.

"Why don't you go play?" Bruce said, still looking at Lorna.

Jason walked out of the room. Bruce had just ignored and then dismissed him. Why did that hurt so much? His dad had cussed him out on a regular basis and that had never fazed him. Now this had put tears in his eyes. He was getting soft after only a few days there. That was pathetic. He'd known this was going to happen, so why was he surprised and the fact that he was hurt only angered him. Why did he think Bruce would keep acting like…well, like a father? He needed to get over it. He had good food, more clothes than he'd ever dreamed of having and a clean bed. Alfred and Dick seemed to like having him around. He didn't need a dad. No, not a dad. He didn't need Bruce. He just hoped Batman wouldn't send him back to the streets. He doubted the billionaire would do that. It wouldn't look good with the media after all.


	15. Chapter 15

Jason went up to his room, but Dick steped out of his own room just then.

"Hey, Jay," Dick said, smiling warmly. He could tell something was wrong. "You want to play a card game?"

"I only know poker," Jason said. He felt miserable and wanted to be left alone. He pulled a piece of nicotine gum out of his pocket and popped it in his mouth. His teeth hurt like all get out, but he was too upset to care. He wished Bruce hadn't taken his cigarettes. If the guy was going to be a jerk he could at least give them back. He clearly didn't care, so what did it matter whether Jason smoked or not?

"Well, I'll teach you Uno. It's really fun," Dick said. They went into the game room, and Richard explained the rules of the card game.

"So, are you going to tell me what's up?" Robin asked after they'd been playing for a while.

Jason shrugged. "Who said anything was wrong?" He hadn't let his tears fall. Sure, his nose was a little stuffy, but that didn't mean anything. He was still chewing his gum, and his teeth were still hurting. Why did something always have to hurt? His back was sore but mostly better, but now it was his teeth. He wasn't going to any more doctors. He didn't care what Bruce said.

"Let's see, your eyes, your voice, and your body language," Dick listed. If something was wrong he, Bruce or Alfred should know about it, and there was a good deal more of a chance that Jay would tell him rather than the two adults.

"I hate it when you do that," Jason muttered. Everyone at the Manor was a human lie detector, making keeping anything a secret or private impossible.

"I know," Dick said. "So, start talking, or I'll go down to the cave and get the truth serum."

"Truth serum, really?" Jason asked, sarcastically. "Isn't that made up for corny spy movies and stuff like that?"

"It's real. It's a drug compound that puts you in a semi-comatose state and makes you highly vunerable to questioning. Bruce developed it to help get information from crooks. Now, spill," Dick told him. If this was serious he would tell Bruce something was up with Jay, but he didn't want to go behind his foster brother's back if he could avoid it.

"Fine, but you're going to think it's stupid. While I was at the dentist I cursed Bruce out really badly. I didn't think he was that mad about it. When we got back here everything seemed okay. His girlfriend showed up, and she and Bruce went into the billiard room. Alfred called me in to meet her, and Bruce was acting all weird. I don't expect him to pay attention to me all the time, but he's never acted cold to me. Even when I was being a brat the other day when he told me to give him the cigarettes," Jason tried to explain. "I know it's dumb, but it was just so out of the blue. I figured he'd get tired of being my foster dad after a while, but I didn't think he'd want me gone so soon." As he talked one or two tears slipped out. What was wrong with him? He'd dealt with worse than this all the time. Why was he becoming an emotional child over a person who didn't even care about him? Thinking like that wasn't helping. Holding on to the idea that Bruce cared about him even if it was only for a little while made Jason feel at least a small amount better, but to think he didn't care at all just hurt. Jason wanted things to stop hurting, not only the physical pain, but the emotional turmoil. He needed everything to be at okay for a little while. The constant crisis was making him sick, and at this rate he didn't know how much more he could take before he had a complete breakdown. Then Bruce would be really mad with him. For crying out loud! He couldn't even be upset without having to worry about what would happen because of it.

"Jason, Bruce is not tired of you. He's putting on an act for Lorna. She wasn't going to be back in Gotham until next week. Bruce would have told you that before she got here if he knew she was coming," Dick told him. Of all the things to happen why did Lorna have to come back now?

"Yeah, right," Jason snorted in annoyance. He didn't like being lied to. So, what if Bruce didn't want him? They could at least be upfront about it. He kept trying to tell himself he didn't enjoy every moment Bruce seemed to want him. No one had ever acted like that and to have that kind of attention from someone who could easily pass as his dad by blood had been wonderful. He pushed down the feelings of rejection. So, what if he was thrown back? It didn't matter.

"You've seen Bruce on TV and in newspapers, right," Jason nodded. "And how did he seem to you?"

"Like an arrogant jerk, who threw his money in people's faces," Jason answered.

"And that's what people need to see, so we're all safe. As Bruce, it's dangerous for him to show he cares about us, and he's expected to act that way. It's part of his disguise," Dick said.

"Far enough," Jason conceded. "So, what's your mask?" he questioned.

"I'm a mathlete, who's friendly and hasn't gone on a trapeze since my parents' deaths," Dick said. His acrobatics were too close to how Robin moved for him to ever think of using them publicly. Once he had dreamed of going to the Olympics, but his costumed identity had put an end to that. He didn't regret it for a moment. Peoples' lives were so much more important than a gold medal. "My personally shift isn't near as extreme as Bruce's, but like Bruce, how I act in public isn't always who I really am."

"Does Bruce have multiple personalities or some crap like that?" Jason asked. He had no desire to be in a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation. He'd had enough of that being around Two-Face.

"No, he's just a really good actor," Robin said. "We have to be." Their lives depended on no one finding out the secrets under Wayne Manor. He couldn't imagine what would happen to them if someone learned who was behind the masks.


	16. Chapter 16

An hour later they heard a loud car tear down the gravel lane and out the gate.

"What do you think of her?" Jason asked in an undertone. He glanced at the window just as Ms. Shore's sports car disappeared.

"She's selfish, rude and believes in less than a year she will be the 'Mrs. Lorna Wayne'. She'll be living here and have us sent off to boarding school in Europe," Dick said, flippantly.

"How long has Bruce been dating her," Jason questioned. That's what rich people did when they didn't want their kids around right? Sent them away to schools in other countries. He didn't like the sound of living at school or somewhere other than Gotham for that matter. As terrible as it could be it was still his home and he didn't want to live anywhere but there.

"A month," Dick answered. "It's been a month too long in my opinion."

"They serious?" Jason asked looking at his cards. They seemed serious down in the billiard room.

Robin cackled his eerie laugh. "No way. Bruce doesn't like how she acts towards me. He's going to dump her soon." Bruce had promised to never marry someone who didn't look at him as their own son.

"Yeah, she called me a 'little project'. I don't think I was supposed to hear that though so don't tell Bruce or Alfred," Jason said. He didn't want to cause a fight. Bruce might get mad at him for listening in on Shore and Alfred talking.

"Oh, so you're an Eavesdropper?" Dick smiled, but he became somber at the anxious look in Jason's eyes. "Don't worry about it. Bruce won't care that you were listening. I'm sorry she said that about you. If it makes you feel any better she called me 'Gypsy trash'. That's why she was in Hawaii, She and Bruce had a fight about it after I told him. I think you should tell Bruce what she said."

"It's not that big of a deal. It was just annoying," Jason waved it off. He'd been called much worse things than that. He wondered if Bruce was still down in the bar drinking. He hoped not. Again, his father's drunken rages came unbidden into his head. Why did he keep having to think about that? He wanted his memories to go away and leave him with some semblance of peace.

At that moment they heard Bruce's step in the hall, and then the sliding door was opened. Batman walked in. There was a concerned look on his face. Some relief washed over him when he saw the two boys sitting on the floor playing cards.

"Jason, I am so sorry about that," Bruce said. He started to explain, but Jason stood up and darted past him like an arrow. He heard Jason's door slam shut. Bruce looked at Dick. "How bad did I mess up?"

Robin was honestly a little surprised at Jason's reaction. "He was upset, but I didn't think he was that upset." He reported to his adopted dad the substance of their conversation. "He was completely calm a second ago."

That seemed like an over the top response judging by what Dick had told him. Then it hit him. He'd been drinking what looked like whiskey in the billiard room when Jason had come in. He turned and followed the path Jason had taken. He knocked on the large door. "Jason," he called. "May I please come in?" He waited a moment before trying the handle. Of course, it was locked. "Jay, please talk to me." He got no answer. Bruce sighed and sat down on the floor next to the door. He had really messed up.

Dick appeared in the hall. "You have the key, right?" It would be easy to get in. So, what was the hold up?

"I'm trying to let him have his space," Bruce answered. "I'm going to wait here for a while." He was hoping Dick would wait with him. He wasn't sure how to explain this to Jason. Robin would be a big help in getting this cleared up.

"Well, I'll be in my room," Dick said, turning to go. He had worked to do what was due tomorrow. Plus, he was a little tired of Jason's constant emotional state. He understood trauma, but he also understood how to handle it. That was something Jason had to figure out. It was frustrating to have to be dealing with someone else's issues. He had his own problems after all. He turned to go, but Bruce's voice stopped him.

"Hey, are you doing okay, Dickie?" Bruce asked. He knew when something was bother Robin, and it had been for a few days now.

"Yeah. Just getting used to someone else being here. I've always been an only child, and this changes things," Dick told him. He wasn't trying to be the stereotypical maladjusted child who had to have all the attention.

"Are you still happy?" Bruce asked. He thought Dick was, but Robin had a habit of not saying anything if he was upset.

"I am, Bruce, really," Dick answered. He really was okay. This was just so different to how it had always been, and he was trying to figure out how everything stood.

"Good, cause I want you to always be my cheerful little bird," Bruce said. He needed to come home and have Dick's joyful smile there to greet him.

Dick flew back to him without warning and hugged him tightly. "I promise I will be."


	17. Chapter 17

Jason sat in his room on the opposite side of the bed from the door. He heard Bruce knocking and calling, but he wasn't going to open it. His heart jumped into his throat when he heard the knob being tried. If Batman really wanted to get in there a stupid lock wasn't going to stop him, but no one came in. Jason was left to his own frightened thoughts. How drunk was Bruce? He hadn't stopped to look at the man's eyes to see if he was coherent or not. Why did this have to happen now? It was Bruce's stupid girlfriend's fault. The billionaire had been working before she showed up and wouldn't have stopped to drink if she hadn't showed up. Kate had been like that. She wouldn't drink until Peter came around. Then she'd drink herself into a hysterical state that would last for hours. She would laugh as Peter screamed and threw things at her and his son. He'd hated those nights. They felt like they went on forever.

The thief didn't realize it, but he'd started singing to himself. It was his mom's favorite song; Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. She would sing it to him when she tucked him in at night. Personally, he liked Alive by Sia and Believer by Imagine Dragon better. They seemed to sum up his life pretty accurately. He hadn't been able to read or watch TV, but he'd always managed to get his hands on a radio.

Jason hadn't heard anything for a while so he got up and put his ear to the door. There was total silence in the hall. He was going to stay in his room for the rest of the day, but an unpleasant thought struck him. What if Batman had gotten angry and taken it out on Dick? He needed to check on the older boy.

Jason slowly opened the door and looked out. No one was to the left, so he stepped out. He turned to go the other way and found Bruce sitting in the hall. He jumped and yelped. He tried to dash back into his room, but a strong vice like grip caught his arm. It didn't hurt, but it terrified him. He couldn't get away.

"Please don't. I'm sorry. I'll be good," Jason begged. He covered his head with his free arm. He honestly didn't know what he was sorry for; he just didn't want to be hurt anymore. He was so sick of being hurt.

Bruce's heart broke at the sight of Jason cowering and begging. He was so small and broken. He was a child who was desperately trying to get away from the pain he knew so well. "Everything's alright, Jason," Bruce said, gently. He sat down again, still holding on to Jason's arm. It seemed he'd spent a good deal of his time sitting on floors recently. He pulled Jay down so he was sitting next to him. "I'm so sorry for how I acted when Lorna was here. Her family is connected to some very dangerous people, and I didn't dare let her see how I feel about you or Dick. I was going to tell you why I act that way around some people, but she showed up before I got around to it, and she insisted on meeting you." There was no excuse for how he acted, but there was a reason and maybe Jason would understand that. The eleven-year-old still had his arm up to protect himself, but when no action was taken to hurt him he lowered it slowly and looked up at his foster dad. Bruce found himself staring into a pair of questioning blue eyes.

"You're not drunk?" Jason asked. Surprise was on his face and in his voice.

Well, he'd been right about that. "No, I'm not drunk. It was ginger ale," Bruce explained. Nine times out of ten when he was seeing drinking what people assumed was champagne or some other kind of alcohol it was ginger ale. He couldn't afford to let down his guard. He needed his mind clear at all times.

Jason's nose wrinkled. "What's that?" he demanded. He didn't smell anything on Bruce, so maybe it was true.

"It's like soda," Bruce explained. "So, do you forgive me for being cold?"

"Yeah, Dick said the same thing you did about wanting to protect me," Jason shrugged. They were both silent for a moment. "Are you going to marry her?" he asked boldly. He knew Dick didn't believe Bruce would marry Lorna, but he wanted to hear what Bruce would say.

"No," Bruce answered with raised eyebrows. "Why do you ask?" He'd already started the process of breaking up. He hadn't called her in days and when he did talk with her, he was become more and more distant. Soon he'd be able to break it off completely.

"Cause if you get married you'll want kids of your own and…well, I'll just be in the way. I know I am anyway, but it would make it more obvious that I don't belong," Jason said, awkwardly.

"I already have kids of my own. Just because you and Dick aren't my blood doesn't mean you're any less my children," Bruce said. So, what if they weren't his in the eyes of the world? He loved and cared for them as if they were his sons and for him that was enough. He didn't need blood to prove a relationship.

"Sure, and that way it will be easy to dump us once you get tired of playing dad," Jason said, sarcastically. He never wanted Bruce to get tired of him, but he couldn't allow himself the luxury of believing that. It would only hurt him in the long run. He was already too attached as it was.

Bruce winced. Well, that stung. "Please, don't say things like that, Jaybird. I'm not going to dump you or Dickie." That comment had cut deep, but he understood that Jason was protecting himself from any more emotional torment.

"When did I became Jaybird?" Jason asked. Richard was Dick, Dickie or Dickiebird. He was Jason or Jay. "Isn't that Dick's name?"

"That's Dick's name because he flies, and it's your name because you sing," Bruce smiled. There had been more than one occasion he'd found himself listening to a private concert. Whenever Jason got lost in his own world or thought he was alone, he'd start singing.

Jason went bright red. "Sorry. I'll stop." His dad had hated it when he sang probably because it reminded him of his dead wife, whom he had helped along into an early grave.

"You don't have to. You sing very well, and I enjoy hearing you," Bruce said, quickly. Jason sang wonderfully, and Bruce liked to hear the peaceful sound. It let him know Jay was some where nearby, safe and comfortable.

"Okay," Jason said, still embarrassed. No one but his mom and Kate had ever really listened to him, and he wasn't sure how he felt having other people listen to him. "So, have you thought about our deal?" he asked, eager to change the subject.

Bruce sighed. He'd known this would be coming up again. "Don't you just want to be a kid for a while?" he asked. The job could ruin childhood. Dick had somehow managed to hang onto his childish ways to some degree, but that would slip away at some point. Jason had already lost so much of his childhood. He shouldn't lose any more of it because of Batman.

"I've never been a kid, Bruce. 'I grew up overnight'," Jason said quoting his favorite song with a humorless laugh. He became serious again. "I've been able to be more of a kid here than anywhere else and what I get is enough. I'm never going to be completely adjusted or normal. I'll probably always freak a little when I see people who look like my old man, and I'll probably always have nightmares about him, Mom and Kate. And that's okay with me. I've learned to live with it, but there are other people who haven't had to go through stuff like that, and someday they will. I want to be there to stop it if I can and to help them through it if I can't prevent it."

Bruce couldn't argue with his logic. "I will train you to be a detective and a crime fighter, but you will not be going into the field until you pass every test I give you. Are we clear?" Batman said, shortly.

"You got it, Boss," Jason said and mocked a salute. He wondered how long that would take.

"Have you picked a name you want to use?" Bruce asked. He was curious to see what Jason would come up with. my

"I was thinking 'Red Hood'," Jason told him. "It makes sense don't you think?" The first Red Hood had lived in the 1930s. He'd started out as a petty criminal, but he had quickly built up a criminal empire. Out of nowhere he'd toppled the whole thing and taken seven other gangs in Gotham down with him. Or at least that was how the story went; no one had ever known who he really was, but he was proclaimed a hero. It was the kind of hero Gotham was expected to have, a criminal one.

"Yes, it does, but you know other people have hidden behind that name since the first Red Hood, and most of them weren't looking for justice?" Bruce questioned. To begin his hero career being associated with dangerous criminals didn't seem like the best plan to him.

"I know. I figured someone who wants justice should take it up," Jason explained. He'd started out a thief and drug courier, and now he was going to make a difference.

"I think that's a great idea," Bruce told him. He saw Jason's reasoning, despite his reservations with the name. "Think up some uniform designs, and we'll work on your training."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to skip Jason being Robin mostly because Dick is already Robin in this story and that wouldn't make sense. Secondly, I like him better as Red Hood than as Robin.   
> Thanks for all the kudos. ^_^


	18. Chapter 18

Later that day, Bruce got a call from Detective Bullock saying that he and his partner had to come by and talk to Jason. He didn't like the tone of the detective's voice. Things hadn't gone well with Todd. Batman didn't know why they would be coming back to the Manor if Peter had refused the deal. Were they returning the tapes? That was all Bruce could think of.

He went up to Jason's room to tell him and found him sitting on the floor, sketching a detailed figure with a red helmet, a brown leather jacket, a black bullet proof shirt with a red bat on it. He also had black cargo pants that had compartments all over it and a gun holster on his hip. Lastly, he'd drawn a pair of heavy army boots.

"That's very good," Bruce commented, looking over Jay's shoulder. He hadn't known Jason could draw this well.

Jason just about jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard Bruce come in. "Don't do that," he snapped, pulling away. Why did that always have to happen? Things were going good, and then he got scared and yelled or had a panic attack. He was getting sick of the constant up and down. He just wanted some normal not freaking out time "Sorry," he said quickly. He searched Bruce's face, but didn't see any anger or even annoyance.

"It's fine," Bruce smiled kindly. "I should have knocked." He longed for the day Jason didn't look at him with mistrust and fear. What would it take for that terror to go away? He really didn't want to tell Jason that the detectives were coming back. The former thief was sure to know what that meant. Batman repeated what little Bullock had told him over the phone. He watched Jason's face fall and worry line his features. After a moment the wall came down like it always did when the subject of his father was brought up.

"Kay," Jason answered. He turned back to his sketch and began absent-mindedly shading the jacket a darker brown. What had happened to make the detectives come back? He had thought he'd never have to worry about this again. He'd never have to hear his dad's name again or worry about what that man was doing.

"Do you want me to just talk to them?" Bruce asked. If Jason didn't want to talk about this again he wouldn't push the issue.

"No, I'll be down," Jason answered. His voice was cold and detached.

An idea struck Bruce suddenly. "I was thinking. How about I take you with me to see my office tomorrow? Dick will be out of school, and we can all go together," he suggested. He wanted Jason to meet Lucius Fox and all the other people who worked to make his company a success. "We can hang out and eat junk all day." He would have to step away for an hour or two. He hadn't been going into the office since Jason had come, and he had to get back. He'd been gone far too long as it was. Thankfully, he'd built quite a few vacation days, so it had worked out very well.

Jason shifted slightly. "Will the paparazzi be there?" He didn't want to leave the Manor if there was even the small chance of running into the crowd of psychos.

"They could be outside, but they won't know you're in the car or in the building," Bruce explained.

"Kay," Jason shrugged. Bruce seemed to want him to go, so he would, but he didn't really like the idea. So far, every time he'd left this place, it had turned into a horrible experience.

A little while later the two detectives arrived. The four of them sat down in the living room.

"What did he say?" Jason asked, before Bullock or Montoya could speak.

"We tried to use the tapes, but he wouldn't even have a full conversation with us. He wants to talk with you, and no one else," Montoya said. Todd wouldn't talk or even listen to them. He knew what they wanted, but that was about it. He was going to try to intimidate his son out of telling what he'd seen that night. At least that's what Montoya thought he was up to. He had said he just wanted to see his son and understand why his boy was telling all these lies about him. Plus, he didn't trust Wayne and wanted to make sure Jason was okay. The guy was the picture of a scumbag.

"He's trying to get me to back down," Jason said. He couldn't let all this fall apart. Peter wasn't going to get more than four to six years for the armed robbery. He'd get out and come looking for revenge for what his son had tried to do. Jason shivered at that thought. He wasn't going to live in fear for the rest of his life. He was going to be a hero. That meant he didn't let criminals break him, and he didn't let them get away with murder. He looked at Bruce. "Can we go?" he asked shortly. It was best to get this over with before his fear built up and outweighed his determination.

"Are you sure?" Bruce asked. He didn't want Peter anywhere near Jason. Who knew how much more damage he could cause just by speaking.

Jason nodded. "Let's get this over with." He went up to his room to get his shoes and Batman hoodie. He passed Dick's room, and he stuck his head in. "We're going to go see my old man. Want to come?" He wanted Dick there. He wanted to know he had people there to protect him. Batman and Robin wouldn't let Peter hurt him.

That was honestly the last thing Dick was expecting to hear. "Sure," he said getting up. The two of them walked downstairs to find Bruce and the detectives waiting for them.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about posting the same chapter twice. Things have been insanely busy with me and I haven't be paying attention to what I'm doing.  
> This has honestly been my favorite chapter to write so far so I hope all of you enjoy it.

Jason focused on not freaking out as they drove to county holding. It would be fine. Bruce and Dick would be watching his back. Once this was over he never had to see Peter again. It would be at least fifteen to twenty years before his old man got out, and by then he'd be able to take him down no problem. He'd be safe.

They walked inside and went through metal detectors. Jason knew what country holding was like, he'd heard enough from people who'd been there to know what to expect. They were led to a small room that had a large one-way mirror looking into a room where Peter was sitting, chained to the metal table in front of him. Jason was honestly surprised at how beaten up his old man was. He must have gotten in a really bad fight, but his knuckles weren't bruised. So, it must have been more than one person. Jason was glad to see Peter was getting a taste of what he had dished out for years.

Bruce placed a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked. He wanted to Jason to change his mind and walk out of there. After he got out for the robbery he was bound to do something else. He was a career criminal, and Batman would be watching him. Jason didn't have to do this.

Jason nodded. "J-just stay here, kay?" he after begged.

"I will," Bruce promised. Jay kept looking at the room where his father sat. The color had drained from his face, and he looked like he might have panic attack right then and there. "He's chained down. He won't be able to get to you. He can't hurt you. I won't let him."

"So, if he attacks me you're coming through that window, right," Jason said, faking a smile. To the others in the room it sounded like a nervous joke, but he was completely serious, and Batman knew it.

"I'll be there, Jaybird," Bruce said. He was letting his child walk into a lion's den. What kind of parent allowed this to happen? He should just tell Jason he wasn't doing this and take him home, where he was safe and protected.

Jason took the tapes from Bullock. He straightened his shoulders and every trace of the terror he felt left his face. The door was opened, and he walked into the room. He sat down across from Peter, who looked surprised that his son had actually showed up.

"What are you doing here," Peter snapped.

"It's good to see you, too," Jason said, sarcastically. He was shaking inside, but he was controlling it. He wasn't going to let Peter see the power he held over him. He wasn't going to let this man win. Peter made a move as if he'd spring over the table and attack. "Really?" Jason rolled his eyes. It was a scare tactic. His father wanted to see him flinch away in fear, but Jason wouldn't let himself.

"Watch yourself!" Peter ordered. If they'd been back in their dirty apartment he would have knocked Jason's teeth out for rolling his eyes. He expected Jason to cringe in fear, but he got no reaction.

"I'm not here so you can intimidate me," Jason said, once Peter saw he wasn't getting anywhere. "Where did you put Kate?"

Peter leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. "My, you've gotten rebellious and Wayne has only had you a few days. Once you've gotten used to living the easy life, he'll send you back to where you belong. They'll tear you apart out there on the streets, and you know it. The weak don't survive, and you were always weak. How long do you think it will be? A week? Maybe two? No one could put up with you for longer than that. Why do you think your mother was always high?"

"Are you really going there?" Jason asked, drily. "Do you honestly think I care what you say after everything you did to me? Now, where is Kate?" The words stung, but they didn't hurt when compared to the physical pain his father had put him through.

"How would I know anything about Katie? She left, remember?" Peter said. The detectives had tried this too, but the second they had mentioned his girlfriend he'd cut the conversation off. They didn't have a body. There wasn't even proof that she was dead.

"Are you sure you want to play this game?" Jason said. He tone was almost mocking. He just had to get through this. He could do it. He knew he could.

"What's the game?" Peter asked. He was clearly pretending to be confused by what his son was saying.

"You can either tell me where Kate is, or I will press charges for the abuse," Jason told him, flatly. He sounded bored and completely in control, which wasn't how he felt at all.

"You were on the streets after I was arrested. Your injuries were caused then, and I was gone a lot. I wasn't there to protect you," Peter answered. "The streets are a dangerous place."

"That's interesting and a jury might believe you, as unlikely as that is," Jason actually smiled. "Hey, do you remember that old tape recorder I stole about four months before you were picked up? You keep telling me to pawn it?" Peter's eyes faltered. "Well, the reason I never got around to pawning it was every time you came home I'd turn it on. It's amazing what you miss when you're drunk."

"You're bluffing," Peter spat. There was no way Jason would think of doing something like that. He'd never had the guts to do that.

Jason pulled out the recorder and played the tape. Bruce and the others watching from the next room could hear the sound of someone being violently beaten. Batman hadn't been able to force himself to watch them yet and he didn't want to.

"Your move," Jason said.

"They'll kill me if I'm sentenced for child abuse," Peter said, growing desperate. "You'd be killing me."

"You say that like your death would upset me, but I'm giving you a way out," Jason said, setting the recorder down.

In a fit of rage Peter snatched it up and broke the device over the table. Jason didn't even blink as it shattered. Bruce almost interrupted the interview. He didn't want Jason anywhere near his father, and this close proximity was making him nervous.

"Real mature," Jason huffed. "You realize I have like eight copies of each tape, right?"

"I hate you!" Peter shouted. His own blood was going to be the reason he spent the better part of his life in prison.

"The feeling is mutual. So, are you going to tell me where Kate is, or are you going to be murdered in your cell, the yard, or whatever dark corner they happen to catch you in? We both know they'll get to you at some point," Jason said, his voice, even and steady.

Peter's shoulders sagged in defeat. "She's in Robinson Park. I buried her under the dead willow tree near the center of the park. You know the one," he answered. There was nothing but rage on his face. "When I get out of here I'm going to kill you."

"No, you're not. First of all, you're going to get twenty-five to life for Kate. Then there's your armed robbery charge. You won't be leaving prison until you're an old man. By then I highly doubt you'll be able to do anything. Plus, I guess you forgot it, but before you became an abusive drunk you taught me how to use a gun. So, I suggest you rethink that plan." Jason got to his feet. "I also suggest you plead guilty to Kate's murder, and if I ever hear from you again, I don't care if it's a letter, a phone call, or an old buddy of yours off the street, I will send those tapes to every news network in the country. Trust me, they'll eat it up, and you'll be dead within an hour." Jason walked out of the room ignoring the sound of his father pulling wildly at his chains and cursing at him. Jason leaned against the metal door once it was closed. He was trying to get himself together and calm down. His heart was pounding, and he could feel his blood pumping. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. He flinched, but then he looked up and saw it was Bruce. He was safe, nothing could hurt him. Bruce wouldn't let anything hurt him. Jason, to his own surprise found himself wrapping his arms around his foster dad, clinging tightly to him. He felt weak and scared. How had he been able to do that?

Bruce pull Jason to him. Jay had never hugged him before. Sure, every morning and night he hugged both his children, but Jason had only stiffened at best or at worst pulled away. "You did great," Bruce said, pride and concern mixed in his voice. That was one of the best interrogations he'd ever seen, and the fact Jason was untrained and had been facing his abuser made it just that much more amazing. "Are you okay?" He could feel Jason's thin frame trembling in his large arms.

Jason nodded. He tried to smile, but he couldn't quite manage it. "That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." He hadn't thought he'd be able to do that. "Can we go home?"

As they drove back to Wayne Manor, Dick smiled at his younger brother. "You're going to be an awesome hero," Robin told him.

Jason hoped that was true and after that why not? If he could do that what was stopping him from taking down other men just like that?


	20. Chapter 20

The next day 'Body Found in Robinson Park. Father of Wayne's Foster Son Confesses to Murder' was splashed all over the front page of almost every newspaper in Gotham City. Jason was sick of it all. He just wanted the media to leave him alone. It was going to start all over again. Thankfully Bruce's phone was unlisted, but his office had called that morning to let him know that there were over seventy calls for him involving Jason. Most were reporters requesting interviews. Others wanted a statement or to know Bruce's reaction to finding out just what kind of family his foster son came from.

Breakfast was unusually quiet. Jason was lost in his own miserable thoughts. Dick was on his phone, texting Wally which wasn't really allowed at the table, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with what was going on. Lastly, Bruce was writing a statement to release to the press. Alfred, sensing the tense atmosphere, made no comments.

Batman looked up suddenly. "How would you feel about giving an interview?" he asked Jason. He didn't much like the idea, but it would get the vultures off their backs for a little while.

Jason frowned. "I don't really want to." He didn't want to directly defy Bruce, but he didn't want to talk about his life with any more people. The world knew enough about him as far as he was concerned. "Besides, they'll just twist everything I say." He was trying to think of a reason to get Bruce away from the idea.

"It would be a reporter I trust," Bruce explained. He didn't want to put Jason through this, but then it would be over, and they could all settle into a more normal routine.

"The words 'reporter' and 'trust' can't be in the same sentence, unless you put 'not' between them," Jason replied, in a snarky tone.

"His name is Clark Kent. He's also Superman. On top of that I own the paper he works for, so I won't let them print anything about you that I haven't read," Bruce explained.

Jason's eyebrows shot up at that. "You're Superman's boss?"

"I guess," Bruce said. He'd bought the Daily Planet when he'd first found out Clark was Superman, so he could keep an eye on the alien's activities.

Jason started laughing. "Everyone thinks Superman doesn't need help from anyone, and he needs Batman to pay the rent."

Bruce smiled into his coffee. The irony wasn't lost on him either. He'd found the fact very amusing since he'd become friends with Clark. "So, what do you think about talking to Superman?" He hoped knowing the reporter was Superman would make it somewhat easier for Jason.

"I guess. I mean how bad can Superman be? Plus, if he's a jerk you can just fire him," Jason answered with a shrug.

Bruce made a mental note to call Clark later that day and set up an appointment as soon as the reporter could get to Gotham. Hopefully this would deal with the issue, and it would also be a good opportunity for a member of the League to meet his foster son. For some odd reason he wanted his team to think as well of Jason as he did. Why did he care? Maybe it was because he was a little worried how they would react to him, once they learned of his criminal acts. What did he think they were going to do? Arrest him? He needed to relax. They had all loved Dick from the moment they met him. Jason was by no means like Robin, but there was a rough charm to him. The League would probably want to put Peter in a vegetative state once they learned what he'd done to the child. They were protective like that.

After breakfast Jason wandered into Dick's room to find his foster brother lying on his bed, playing on his laptop. They were going to go down to Wayne Tower in a little while, and he was avoiding getting ready to go.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked, flopping down next to Robin to watch.

"Playing a game," Dick answered flatly, almost without noticing him.

"Can I play?" Jason asked in a whiny voice. He knew he was annoying Dick, but honestly he didn't care. Bruce was on the phone and Alfred was dusting. That left Dick to hang out with, and Jason was bored.

"You're still grounded from video games, and it's a single player game," Dick answered. An edge of irritation crept into his usually cheerful voice. He wanted to be left alone. Ever since Jason had come it had been about him twenty-four seven, and it was getting on his last nerve.

"But this is a computer game not a video game," Jay said, finding a loophole. There was usually a way to get around something he was told.

"Bruce considers them to be in the same category. You can stay and watch if you want," Dick said, trying to think of a solution, preferably one where Jason kept his mouth shut for a whole thirty seconds.

Jason did stay and watch, but he quickly became bored again. "This is lame. Can't you play with me?" he groaned.

"No. Go read a book," Dick said. He was growing increasingly frustrated. He wasn't there to entertain Jason.

"Books are boring," Jason huffed. He looked over Dick's shoulder and without thinking he pushed the power button. Dick jumped in surprise, which immediately turned to anger.

"What is wrong with you?" Dick snapped getting to his feet. He hadn't saved his game in over an hour, and he'd lost all the progress he made.

Jason just sat there. "Well, will you play with me now?" The game was off, so now they do something. Plus, it was really annoying how Dick had ignored him.

"No! I'm not playing with you!" Dich shouted. "Why would you do that?" He wasn't trying to control his anger now. He would never do that to Jason, so why had he done that to him? He was an inconsiderate brat.

"Because I could," Jason snapped. He was lonely. That's why.

That answer only proved to anger Dick further. "That doesn't give you the right, Street rat!"

"Gypsy trash!"

"Dumpster Goblin!"

Bruce was walking upstairs when he heard shouting. He sighed to himself. He had been wondering when this would happen. Dick was a good kid, but even he had his limits and Jason didn't seem to care whom he angered. It was only a matter of time before they got into a fight. Hopefully it wasn't too bad. He found the boys in Dick's room screaming at each other. Frankly, he could barely make sense of it. Dick was yelling in a mix of his own native language, English and Russian. Jason was in his brother's face, shouting both English and French obscenities.

"Circus freak!" Jason hollered.

"At least I'm not a punching bag," Dick said, spitefully.

"That's enough," Bruce ordered. This had gone way too far. The two boys instantly fell silent at the sound of his voice. "Now, what is this about?" he asked shortly. It took some time, but he finally got the whole story, word for word. "Jason, you know better than that," Bruce admonished his youngest son. "You don't purposely antagonize your brother, you don't mess up his games, and you don't cuss and make derogatory comments regarding his heritage. Are we clear?" Jason nodded, his eyes on the floor. Bruce's attention flew to Dick. "You're not in trouble getting angry. You are however in trouble for throwing Jason's abuse in his face. You know not to do that to an abuse victim," Batman said, sternly. "Now, I want you both to apologize to each other," he ordered.

Dick and Jason looked at each other for a moment before the former thief turned back to Bruce. "Are you serious?" he asked. He honestly couldn't remember ever apologizing for anything he'd done. Sure, he'd shouted that he was sorry over and over again while his father was beating him for whatever he'd done 'wrong', but that hadn't meant he had felt sorry for whatever he had happened to do to that had angered Peter.

"Yes, I'm serious," Bruce answered. Growing up, he'd even had to deal with this type of thing. He'd break something and apologize for it, but he'd never gotten into a fight with his parents or Alfred. Yes, he'd gotten angry with them, but you can't call a seven-year-old's tempers at being told 'no' a fight. So, he wasn't at all sure he was handling this right. Should he wait for the boys to cool down before making them apologize? Or should they just get it over with? And did parents punishing their children for fighting with each other? He probably should have picked up a parenting book or something. Were there parenting books for traumatized and abused kids? Well, there should be because he didn't have a clue as to what he was doing. "Well?" he said, waiting for one of his boys to say something. He really didn't want to talk them through this. They were twelve and eleven after all.

"Jason, I'm sorry for calling you names and talking about your abuse in a mean way," Dick stated in an entirely 'unsorry' tone. He looked at Bruce, his lower lip out in defiance. "Happy?" he asked.

"Please forgive me," Bruce reminded. He knew in twenty minutes Dick really would be sorry and be extra nice to Jason to make up for it.

Dick huffed and turned back to Jason. "Will you please forgive me?" This was just stupid. Why make them apologize when they weren't sorry?

Jason was looking back and forth between Bruce and Dick. He hadn't thought this was how families acted, but then again how would he know? "Yes," he said shortly. Bruce motioned for him to continue. "I'm sorry for messing up your game and calling you racial slurs. Will you forgive me?" He hoped that was what Bruce wanted to hear.

"Yes," Dick said crossing his arms. "Are we done now?" he asked.

"As soon as you hug," Bruce answered.

"What?" Dick snapped. Could this get any worse?

"You heard me," Bruce told him, shortly.

"Why are you making us do this? We already apologized," Dick questioned. Why did they have to hug? What did that have to do with them fighting? Bruce was just trying to make them suffer more.

"Well, you can hug, or you can go the rest of the day without speaking to each other," Bruce answered. He already knew which one Dick would pick. As angry at Jason as he was he still wanted someone to talk to.

"Fine," Dick huffed. He pulled Jason into a hug, all the while giving Batman a miniature version of the 'Bat glare'. Jason just looked annoyed and kind of confused. This whole thing would have been kind of funny, if he wasn't so annoyed with Dick.

Without warning, Bruce pulled out his phone and took a picture of the two of them. Even with that look on Dick's face it was still a cute moment. Robin jumped and jerked away from Jason.

"You just did that, so you could get a picture of us hugging," he accused. Of all the immature things to do.

"My, your deductive powers are astonishing," Bruce smiled. He went to his phones settings and changed the backdrop to that picture. "Well, shall be get ready to go? We don't want to be late." He turned and walked out of them room.

"What was all that?" Jason said, looking after the tall billionaire. Was that how all fights in Wayne Manor went?

"I don't know. You heard him. Go get ready," Dick ordered, going to his own closet to pick something out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my brother, MartyrFan. Sorry for turning off your computer all those years ago, Dude. My sister, who called me a 'Dumpster Goblin'. ^_^
> 
> It is also dedicated to my mom who always made me and my siblings hug after we fought when we were little.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :) You've all been so wonderful, and I wanted to let you all how much appreciate it. I never thought I would be able to tell the stories in my head because I couldn't read or spell because of something called 'convergence insufficiency'. It's a fancy way of saying my eyes would not look at the same place on a page. To be honest I didn't learn to read until I was twelve, and I'm still working on the spelling. It was something I was always afraid people would realize, so I would memorize everything I might have to read aloud, but there were still times I would mess up and people would look at me funny. So you can probably imagine how hard it was for to even imagine letting other people read what I'd written. This is how I express myself and to have people enjoy it is so amazing.
> 
> It's because of my family that I was finally able to learn to read. They worked with me and helped me and it's because of them that I write. They are everywhere in my stories, to little sayings, to personality traits, likes, and dislikes. This is my tribute to all of them and it makes it that much more important to me to know that all of you are liking it. Thanks again.

The ride to Wayne Enterprises was for the most part silent. When they got to the tall skyscraper there was a swarm of reporters waiting outside for any news. Jason hunkered down in his seat, wishing he was back at the Manor. That thought gave him pause. He couldn't remember ever wanting to be anywhere. He had never known a place to want to be, so he'd not wasted time thinking about it, but now he had a place to go and if things kept up like this, he maybe would have a home.

Bruce went through security, leaving the reports shouting and taking pictures of his car behind. He parked in the multi-level garage that was connected to his building. He turned around in his seat to look at Jason.

"You're going to meet a lot of people who work for me and none of them know about what I do except for Lucius Fox. So, be very careful what you say, got it?" Bruce said. They never used the word: Batman outside of Wayne Manor when they were out of uniform. He should have said something to Jason earlier, but he'd been enjoying just the normal stuff. No masks and no capes, just getting to know his foster son, even with how difficult that was proving to be.

"Don't talk about criminal activity. Got it," Jason answered. His tone was joking, but he didn't feel like it at all. He was so scared he'd mess up and anger Bruce. He knew it was only a matter of time before he didn't something to really upset the billionaire and get put out of the Manor. He didn't want that to happen, so if he was good now, maybe when whatever was going to happen did then, Bruce wouldn't get mad enough to send him away.

The three of them got out of the expensive car and walked into the building through a back door. Bruce usually went in through the front, but he wasn't going out there, with that crowd waiting to pounce. He noted that Jason was practically hiding in his shadow. The former thief was nervous of this place and that fear seemed to override his seemly constant terror of Batman. He clearly didn't want to be more than a few feet away from his guardian. Bruce couldn't help but smile when he saw how his sons walked beside him. If the whole world didn't already know they weren't his blood, it would be easy to mistake them as Waynes.

They went inside and stepped right into a private elevator. Bruce pushed the button for the top floor. Jason couldn't believe his guardian owned this whole building. In was clean and modern, and there were pictures of what he guessed was modern art on the walls. The Manor had shocked him at first, but he'd kind of gotten used to the idea of it. Now with this new extravagance before him, he was left floored. Jason suddenly remembered taking Bruce to his old apartment, and he wilted at the thought of bringing the billionaire into that place. What had Batman thought of it? He must have been disgusted by it. Why did Jason care what he'd thought?

Bruce watched as several emotions danced across Jay's still thin face. What would it take to get that hollow look out of his checks? He wondered what the eleven-year-old was thinking about. Whatever it was it seemed to bother him.

Jason suddenly noticed that the Dark Knight was practically staring at him. "Why are you looking at me?" he demanded, looking up at Bruce, with fire in his eyes. He was already self-conscious as it was.

"Because I like to," Batman answered. He liked seeing the different expressions that passed across his sons' faces. Dick was usually smiling, and his eyes would dance and twinkle when he was excited about something. At the moment he was clearly ignoring Bruce and Jason, while listening to music. When he was annoyed like he was now, his chin would jut out slightly, and his eyes would go cold and still. Jason almost always held a look that was just as guarded as he was, but once in awhile it would slip away, and his thoughts would run across his face, making whatever he felt clear and easy to read.

"Well, that's stalkerish," Jason huffed in irritation. It was one of the oddest statements he'd ever heard. What was there to see anyway? A street kid and a thief. That was about it.

"So, do you want to tell me what's been bothering you?" Bruce asked, changing the subject, as the doors opened onto his office floor.

"Who says anything's been bothering me?" Jason shot back. They walked out of the elevator, and Jay found himself in a lobby.

"We'll talk about it later," Bruce said, as they approached a desk, where a business-like woman was sitting, typing away at her computer. She looked up and smiled at them.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne," she said. "Dick. And this must be Jason."

"Good morning, Nancy. Yes, this is Jay. Jason, this is Nancy Jackson. She handles a lot of the paperwork here and makes sure I don't miss anything," Bruce said. He needed people he could trust working beside him. He had complete faith in Nancy's ability to keep this place in check.

"Hey," Jason said. He shook the woman's hand, still hanging back in Bruce's shadow. He didn't want to embarrass his guardian with how little he knew about this side of society.

"We're all very glad to have you here," Nancy said, smiling. She had seen the papers and watched the news, of course. She had been curious to meet this child who had found himself in such an odd situation. Not many people went from homeless to living with one of the richest men in the world.

Jason glanced at Bruce before answering. "Thanks," he said.

A moment later they went into Bruce's office. It was big and open. On the wall to Jason's left was a large bookcase. By the large floor-to-ceiling window, there was a desk facing the room. On the desk there was a laptop, paperwork, and two framed photographs. One was of Bruce's parents and the other was of him, Dick, and Alfred standing on a yacht together.

"Hey, come look at this," Robin said, waving Jason over to the bookcase. He stood in a certain spot and pulled one of the books. Part of the shelves popped open. He went inside to set up a game for him and Jason to play. They might as well stop fighting. There wasn't anything else to do, other than hang out with the security guards or go down to Lucius's office. The problem with these two things was that this was their workplace, and that meant they had stuff to do.

Jason honestly didn't know why he was surprised. "You have a 'Batcave' in your office, too?" he asked, half laughing. His life had gotten so much simpler in some ways, yet some much more complicated in others. The whole thing was just getting ridiculous.

"Actually, it's a room for Dick and you to hang out in while I work. My father had it put in when I started coming here on days he wasn't working in the hospital. Back then it just had some books and an old TV. It also doubles as a panic room in case of an emergency," Bruce explained.

"It doesn't seem like a very good panic room, if all you have to do is pull on the right book," Jason said, crossing his arms.

Bruce was very pleased to hear that Jason was thinking ahead like that. "You're exactly right. That's way it won't open unless your figure print has been programed in. It also needs retinal scan. Both of yours have already been encoded in."

"When did you get a scan of my eye?" Jason questioned, slightly disturbed by that revelation.

"There are cameras in the cave that scanned you the minute you stepped inside," Bruce answered. He probably should have mentioned that fact a little sooner.

"Of course, there are," Jason rolled his eyes. He had officially been taken in by the most paranoid man on Earth. He turned and was about to go inside when Bruce's voice stopped him.

"What was it that was upsetting you?" Bruce questioned. If something was wrong, he needed to know about it.

Jason waved it off. "It's no big deal." It was stupid, and he didn't want to talk about it.

"Jay, please. I want to help, and I can't do that if I don't know what the problem is," Bruce said seriously. He was starting to get really worried.

Jason could see he wasn't going to get out of this so easily. He dropped his gaze. "Coming here made me think about all of us going to my old apartment. Guess seeing all this made me feel out of place and well…. What did you think of the apartment?" He really wanted to know what Bruce thought of him and everything the billionaire had seen of the thief's small dark life.

"First of all, you belong here just as much as Dick, Alfred or myself. Secondly, I hated that place because of what happened to you there. I don't judge people based on how much money they have or what kind of house they live in. I judge them on how they live their lives," Bruce answered. Okay, maybe that second part was best left unsaid. It was obvious how Jason would take it. As if to confirm this thought, he saw Jay's bony shoulders sagged slightly.

Well, that was spelled out pretty clearly. He was a thief. What did he expect Batman, of all people, to think of him? He honestly was a moron. Bruce could say he belonged there all he wanted. That didn't mean the Dark Knight believed it.

"When I first met you, I thought you were simply a thief, but now that I've gotten to know you a little, I see that you're a child who was hurt and all alone in the world and just needed someone to care about you. I've also learned that you're a very intelligent and strong little person, who did what you had to do in order to survive. I don't think any less of you because of what you had to do," Bruce told him, trying to clarify. Desperation had driven Jay to do what he did, not the desire to commit his crimes.

Jason didn't know why that meant so much to him. He felt tears building in his eyes. Wow, he was really going soft.

Bruce reached his foster son in four long strides. He knelt down to Jason's level. "What's all this?" he asked, gently. He hadn't meant to upset Jason by what he'd said.

Jason dropped his head and began mopping at his runny nose. "Why do I care so much what you think of me?" he asked. He was regretting saying that out loud, but this was Batman. He'd understood about the panic attacks, so maybe he would know what else was wrong with him.

Bruce sighed. "You've never gotten love or acceptance from your father, so now you're trying to find that somewhere else. That can be a very dangerous thing to do. You can get attached to the wrong kind of person when you're looking for people to fill in the places of a normal family." He hoped that made sense.

"Sorry," Jason muttered. "I'll stop." If he got too clingy, Bruce might get annoyed with him. He realized suddenly that the idea of being forced to leave Wayne Manor, Bruce, Dick, and Alfred make him sick inside. He didn't know if he could handle that, so he'd just have to make sure that didn't happen.

"No, it's fine with me, Alfred and Dick. We're your family. It's my job to make sure you feel loved and wanted," Bruce tried to explain. "I want to be there for you, Jay." He could tell by the look on Jason's face that he was done talking about this. "Now, why don't you go play with Dick. He's waiting for you."

Jason walked into the side room and found Dick playing solitaire. "Everything okay?" Robin asked.

Jay nodded. "So, what are we playing?" he asked sitting down across from Dick. He got the feeling they were going to pretend like their fight that morning didn't happen, which was fine with him.

"Don't know. How about Hold 'Em Poker?" Dick suggested. He didn't much care for gambling based games, but that seemed to be what Jason was good at, so he'd put up with it.

"What are we going to bet with?" Jason asked. He loved poker, and it helped that he was really good at it. He had had a lot of practice after all.

"M&Ms," Dick answered, pulling a few small plastic packages from his backpack. They sat on the floor and played together for the next few hours.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos. You are all some awesome! :)

After Bruce's conversation with Jason, he set up an appointment for the eleven-year-old with a trusted child psychologist. He'd been avoiding this, because he knew Jason would positvely hate the idea and if he hated the therapy. Bruce wouldn't force him to go, but he at least expected Jay to try it. Talking to someone about his feelings had never worked for him. Dick had gone for a few months, but then said he could talk to Bruce about his trauma so there was no reason for him to see someone. Honestly, Bruce didn't see Jason taking to it, but that was yet to be seen. Once that was done, he called The Man of Steel.

"Hello, Clark," Bruce said shortly. He didn't want to put Jason through this, but once it was done things would be easier for him, at least where the press was concerned.

"Hey, Bruce. I was wondering when I was going to hear from you," Superman said. "So, how's everything going?" He had thought Bruce would have called sooner, but the Dark Knight did things in his own time.

"Fine. When can you came out to Gotham? Jason won't get any peace until the media gets some kind of information on him, other than stolen pictures," Bruce answered. He was still angry about that.

"Actually, Lois and I just flew in this morning," Clark told him. "Perry knows we're friends and wants a story on Jason. We need to think of an explanation for us knowing each other by the way, because I keep getting questions about that."

"There's an easy solution. Don't tell people you know me," Bruce huffed. Clark really needed to learn to keep secrets, but then again, what could he expect from a guy who didn't even wear a mask.

"I know, I know," Clark sighed. He'd been talking to Lois awhile ago and it'd just slipped out.

"I was driving through Kansas before I went overseas.. My car broke down, and you helped me fix it. We stayed in touch. End of story," Bruce said, jumping at the first thing that popped into his head.

"Works for me," Clark said. There was a pause. "What's Jason like?"

"If you would come out to the Manor for dinner tonight, you can meet him," Bruce answered.

"Can Lois come too?" Clark half begged. She would be mad at him if he got an invitation to Wayne Manor, and she didn't.

Bruce did not want Lois Lane anywhere near Jason. She was a nice person as people went, but she was ruthless as a reporter, and Jason did not need that kind of intimidation. The problem with letting Clark come and not Lois was it would call into question just how well Bruce Wayne, the billionaire, knew the farm boy from Kansas, and he didn't have the energy or the desire to deal with that on top of everything else. "Fine, but if she pushes him the least bit I will throw her out on the lawn myself," Batman stated before hanging up. He got back to work. There were meetings to attend and document after document to read and sign or throw away. It had really piled up in his absence. Everywhere he went in his tower, people were congratulating him and saying how much they wanted to meet the newest addition to the Wayne family.

Around noon Bruce decided it was time for a break. He returned to his office to check on the boys. He found them sitting on the couch, watching an old B-movie. He didn't much care for black and white movies, other than a few of the classics, but he joined them anyway.

"Jay and I were talking, and he's never seen Arachnophobia," Dick told him. "I was thinking we could watch it tonight when we get home." He loved horror movies, especially older ones that were a little cheesy. They were better than today's horror movies in his opinion. Yes, there's a scary monster and yes, it's going to jump up in front of the camera and scare him. There was more to horror movies than just jump scares.

"I think that would be fun," Bruce answered. "And I'm sure we can talk Alfred into making popcorn."

"Peanut butter popcorn?" Dick asked, hopefully. They didn't usually have a ton of sweets at the Manor. Alfred was kind of a health nut.

"Sure," Bruce nodded. "Clark and Lois Lane will be there for dinner and to interview you, but after they go, we can have some fun."

"Already?" Jason asked. He had thought when Bruce had brought up talking to a reporter he meant sometime that week, not that day. He didn't want to do this in the first place. There was too much going on as it was. He had just barely begun to let himself get comfortable in his possible new home. He didn't want to have to deal with strangers asking questions. He'd gotten enough of that since Bruce took him in to last a lifetime.

"They were in the city, and I thought you'd want to get it over with," Bruce told his foster son. If he had to he'd just reschedule the interview.

"Okay," was all Jason said. He wished he could get out of this, but that wasn't likely to happen, so he might as well go through with it. Besides it wasn't like Bruce was just going to throw him to the wolves or at least he didn't think the billionaire would. No, Bruce would be right there with him, Jason told himself sternly. He needed to learn to trust Batman. He was going to be fighting crime with his guardian after all, and Bruce and Dick would be the only ones out there, watching his back. That kind of situation required trust. They were soldiers and this was war. If he couldn't rely on them he would not last long.

"Now, what should we have for lunch?" Bruce asked, changing the subject. He wanted today to be a good day for Dick and Jay, and so far it hadn't really gone as planned. Maybe they could get things back on track.

"Chinese?" Dick suggested. If that wasn't something Bruce and Jason wanted they could always get fried chicken. He'd noticed that ever since Jason came to the Manor he eat whatever and whenever he could. Robin couldn't imagine what it was like to slowly starve to death. Someone could only live out of the trash for so long.

"That sounds good to me," Bruce said, looking at Jason, who nodded. He stepped out to ask Nancy to order them lunch. It had been awhile since he and Dick had eaten lunch in his office. He'd always enjoyed having lunch with his father. They hadn't had much time together with how busy his father had been between the hospital and the office. It made what little time they had had together that much more important to him. He couldn't allow the time he had with Dick and Jay to pass without taking advantage of it.

The day went by without any hiccups, much to Bruce's satisfaction. He wanted Wayne Tower to be a place where they felt safe and happy. It would be theirs some day after all.

Bruce drove the three of them home around four. He wanted Jay to have sometime to get ready for Clark and Lois coming.


	23. Chapter 23

Jason trudged up the stairs to his room, wishing he didn't have to do this. Bruce would watch out for him. He told himself that again and again. He was trying to think of everything he wasn't supposed to say. He couldn't say a word about his dad's abuse. That was their deal after all, but once he lied about those injuries to a reporter it would be a hundred times harder to come out with it down the road. Was that what he wanted? He was a victim of child abuse, and he had to accept that as much as he hated to think of himself that way. It was part of who he was and it would always be with him. Maybe a day would go by where he wouldn't think about the pain or the damage it had done, but he was going to do something with that pain and damage. He was going to make men and women like his father pay for it.

Another problem with saying anything was Peter would be killed. Did he care? Jason stopped combing his hair and stared back at his own reflection. Did he care? How would he feel if his dad...No! Not his dad. His abuser. How would he feel if his abuser was dead? He didn't think he would care. Well, that wasn't right. If one's father died one should feel something. Was something wrong with him? He should ask Bruce, but if there were was something wrong Batman might not train him and he'd become a burden.

With a huff of annoyance, Jason went back to getting ready and planning what he was going to say. He'd think about his old man later. At the moment he had to focus on not making Bruce look bad. He would be looked at as a reflection of Bruce and his parenting, so Jay had to be sure not to do anything that would make his guardian seem like an incompetent foster dad.

Jay walked down the stairs when he heard the musical doorbell sound loudly throughout the manor. He watched as Alfred opened the door and let the two reporters in. Kent was about six feet tall and was massive through the shoulders. He slouched forward slightly and his suit was too big for him. Both of these things were most likely done in an attempt to hide how big he really was. Across his nose rested a pair of glasses with thick black frames that made it hard to see his eyes. His hair was black and kind of a mess like he'd been in too much of a rush to take care of it that morning. Lois Lane was rather pretty in Jason's opinion. Her hair was amburn and her eyes brown. She looked at everything like she was analyzing it. She had a business-like air about her, and her dress suit only added to her professional persona.

Jason wasn't sure if he was supposed to introduce himself or not. He was saved from having to figure that out by Bruce stepping out of his office just then, He shook both Lois and Clark's hand. "Thank you for coming all the way out here," Batman told the reporters. He caught sight of Jason standing on the stairs. He waved the former thief down to the foyer and introduced his foster son to the reporters.

"We were happy to come," Clark said. Whenever people from his superhero life and his normal life met, it made him a little nervous. Lois had met Bruce before when he was in Metropolis awhile ago, but it didn't change things.

Dick walked in from the library and smiled when he saw Clark and Lois. He had started calling Superman 'uncle' when he'd first met the Man of Steel, but he wasn't supposed to know Clark that well. He was an acquaintance of Bruce's and that was it. He'd seen Lois once as Richard and three or four times as Robin. They all moved to the dining room where Alfred had dinner laid out and ready. It was a little awkward for Jason, but he tried not to think about it and kept his attention focused on the plate of food in front of him. He hated feeling out of place and listening to the other four people in the room really made it apparent he didn't belong, to himself anyway. Bruce said he belonged so that was the end of the conversation. So what if he felt like he wasn't where he was supposed to be? Batman, Robin, and Agent A wanted him there and that was all that was mattered.

They got through dinner without a hitch and then went to the sitting room for the interview. Jay started tapping his foot and playing with his jacket's zipper once again. He was tired of his emotions being all over the place. He was sick of the rollercoaster he was on, and he wanted it to stop or at least slow down.

"So Jason," Lois said as she sat down opposite to Bruce, Jason, and Dick. She took a pocket recorder out of her handbag along with a notepad. Clark only removed a similar notepad from his suit jacket's pocket. "Why don't we start at the beginning? Where were you born?"

"Gotham," Jason answered shortly. He didn't really know any more than that.

"And what is your mother's name?" Lois asked.

"Sheila Lefort, then it was Todd," Jason said.

"I understand she died of a drug overdose, and that you were there at the time," Lois said, carefully. She noticed that Bruce leaned forward slightly as if to put himself between her and Jason. He was obviously protective of his new foster son.

Jason nodded. He didn't want to talk about that. He never wanted to remember that night ever again.

"Would you like to tell us about that?" Lois asked, tentatively. She didn't want to push a clearly traumatized child.

"No," Jay said shortly. He saw Bruce give Clark a look, and Superman at once stepped in.

"What's it like living here at Wayne Manor?" Clark asked, jumping into the conversation.

"It's really nice," Jason answered. He didn't want to be this open with how he felt about having a home, but he had to make sure no one thought badly of Bruce because of him. He would say whatever he had to so he could stay here. "I've never had a real home or family before I came here." They went over his time on the streets, which Jason took the opportunity to blame all his injuries on. "A couple nights before Bruce found me, I got in a really bad fight with some gang members. They were bigger than me and there were more of them, so…." Jason's voice trailed off. His mind was going back to what had really happened, and he shuddered. He changed the subject. Instead he talked about everything Bruce had done for him, how great it was to have an older brother and what an amazing cook Alfred was. He was careful how he worded everything. They weren't going to twist what he'd said.

"And what about Kate Heywood?" Lois asked.

Jason had been waiting for that one. "I was sleeping on the fire escape that night and didn't know what he had done. The next morning I got up and Kate was gone. All of her stuff was there. I just figured she and my dad had gotten in a fight and she'd left to cool down, but then she didn't come back after a few days. I knew something bad must have happened to her, but there was nothing to prove that. I'm glad my father confessed and the police were able to find Kate," he said, being sure not to betray that he had any personal information about that whole thing.

"We were informed that you went to see your father the day he confessed," Lois said, watching the thief's eyes. She had a feeling he wasn't telling her everything, which just made her that much more curious to know if he what he was hiding and why. It would make for a great headline if he had more information.

"Yes. He was worried about me and wanted to make sure I was okay." Jason could have gagged for that lie. He hated saying anything about his father that made him sound like a somewhat decent dad. He was a monster, and everyone should know it. "He was planning on confessing to Kate's murder and wanted to make sure I was in a safe place before he did." He could have screamed for having to do this. Was it so bad to tell the truth? What was wrong with telling the world what Peter had done? But then he'd be responsible for a man's murder, and Bruce wouldn't want someone who had done that in his house and Jason couldn't blame him. Batman didn't kill and that meant Jason would have to follow the Dark Knight's rules if he wanted to climb out of the gutter that he'd always lived in.

After a while the two reporters moved on to questioning Bruce and Dick, which Jason was glad for. He hated answering questions. He didn't want people to know about him or his life. He didn't want them to know about the crimes he'd committed in order to survive. He didn't want them to know he'd been so weak as to allow himself to be beaten by his drunk of a father, and he didn't want them to know about the things he'd seen. It was too personal in a horrible way to tell anyone about the murders, the gangs, and the drugs. But he had told someone. He'd told Bruce. Why had he told the World's Greatest Detective things he never thought he'd be able to put into words? After thinking it over he decided it was because Bruce was the first person he'd ever met who cared and who had put Jason's needs above his own. That was what a parent was supposed to do. Right?

It felt like forever, but Kent and Lane finally left. Alfred started popcorn in the kitchen while Dick and Jason got blankets from their rooms. Bruce met them in the cinema room where the three of them piled onto the large couch. Alfred excused himself stating that he didn't care for horror movies or spiders. The book; Murder on the Orient Express, was waiting for him, as was a cup of Earl Grey tea.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks RedstarGoldenapple for leaving a comment. As to your question The League has been formed. This is set about a year before the first season of Young Justice, so they're on pretty good terms, while also staying out of each others way. As to the peanut butter popcorn, it is very tasty. ^_^

As Arachnophobia played Bruce looked down at his sons. Dick was squished up against his right side, holding a green bowl of peanut butter popcorn. Jason was curled up on the other side of him. His eyes were big, and Bruce was trying to figure out if he was enjoying the movie or was completely freaked out. He was also surprised at how close Jason had gotten to him, without tensing up. The former thief actually seemed to be finding comfort in his guardian's presence.

Bruce stifled a laugh when a spider jumped onto a girl's face and Jason yelped and grabbed onto his arm. "Are you alright?" he asked. The movie was forgotten for a moment, because Jason's reaction had surprised Dick, who spilled some of the popcorn.

Jason nodded. "It's just a movie," he said, flatly.

"Yeah," Robin laughed. "That's why you screamed like a baby."

"I yelled. I didn't scream," Jason defended himself. Dick rolled his eyes, but didn't argue the issue.

Bruce noticed that throughout the rest of the movie Jason was constantly looking around and scratching his legs and arms as if something was on him. He also noticed that during the finale both his sons clung to him, neither realizing it. He wondered briefly what he would be doing if he hadn't take Dick in or found Jason. He would most likely be down in the cave looking for the Boyles' murderer. Granted he still had to do that, but there would be no reason to come up to the Manor. They had become the foundation of his life. He needed them, their ups and downs. Their joys and fears. He needed to see them when he got home and before he left. To know that they were happy and know that that happiness was because of what he did for them had become the most important thing to him.

It was around eleven by the time the credits rolled. Jason was the first one off the couch. He rushed to turn on the lights. His eyes were kind of large and he looked about him, watching for any movement on the floor or walls.

"Dick, take the bowls to the kitchen," Bruce instructed. Once Robin was gone, Batman turned to Jason. "Are you alright?" Maybe they should have picked a slightly less intense movie, but after everything the eleven year old had been through Bruce had just assumed he'd be okay with movies like that. Or had it just made him more susceptible to being frightened by the imaginary world. Well, if that was the case there was no way Bruce would ever let him watch 'It'. Now that was a messed up movie. No theater in Gotham had been willing to show a movie based around a child-murdering clown. They had a real one of their own. They didn't need to see it on the big screen to experience that kind of fear. Anyway, maybe it would be better to avoid scary movies for right now.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Jason demanded. He had never liked creepy, crawly things, not after a rat had scrambled across his face one night while he was trying to sleep with his old man throwing a fit in the next room.

"Well, you haven't watched a whole lot of TV or movies, and I thought that might have been a little much," Bruce said. Jay didn't like his fears to be pointed out, but he didn't know how else to deal with this.

Jason honestly didn't know why that had bothered him. He'd seen people die, so what was the big deal with a movie?...that had killer spiders in it...Okay so he knew what it scared him, but it wasn't real. It was fake. "I'm fine," Jason said. He was about to turn to go, when Bruce pulled him into a hug. Jason still wasn't used to that. The only physical contact he'd gotten before he'd come here had been painful to say the least, and this complete reversal was going to take a while to get used to.

"It's okay to be afraid," Batman told him gently. Why hadn't they picked something more family friendly? Well, there was an obvious answer to that. He and Dick always watched horror or thriller movies together, so he hadn't thought anything of it. Jason needed to know that it was okay to be afraid. If he continued down the path of a crime fighter he would need to learn to expect and express his fears.

"Okay," Jason said shortly. He hugged Bruce back briefly before turning and going upstairs. "Night," he called back to his foster dad.

"Sleep well," he heard Bruce call back. Jason knew Batman and Robin were going out tonight. They most likely wouldn't be back until around three or four in the morning. He didn't know how they functioned with so little sleep. He was going to have to do that to at some point if he was going to be running around Gotham, taking down criminals.

The next morning Bruce sat in the dining room, drinking his coffee. He would be heading to the office for a meeting around twelve. At the moment, however, he was reading the article Lois and Clark had written together. It had been the front page and was entitled: Who is Jason Todd? The two reporters gave a glowing account of Jason and condemned everything that had happened to him. Overall, it would do some good in getting the press to back off, and it did nothing to give any real insight into who Jason was or what he'd been through, which was what Bruce had been hoping for. Jason walked into the room. He'd been working out with Dick, and normally he would have gone upstairs to shower, but for some reason he hadn't today.

"Did you sleep okay?" Bruce asked as Jay took his seat at the table. It was nice to think of it as 'Jason's chair'. It was his place at the Wayne family table. He was safe and nothing could get to him there. If only Bruce was able to keep the world out forever, but that wasn't possible.

Jason shrugged. "Not really." He didn't make any further comment.

Bruce had listened at Jason's door, last night after he and Robin got back, but he hadn't heard anything except for soft breathing. He didn't open the door to check on his son, for fear of waking him up. He hadn't been woken up by any of Jason's nightmares so he'd assumed everything was fine. A pattern had developed with Jason's sleep schedule in the short amount of time he'd been there. He'd go to bed around ten-thirty, sleep for between four and five hours, before waking everyone with his nightmares. Bruce hated to see him so afraid, which was why they were going to see a psychologist when Batman got home from Wayne Tower. He was still trying to think of how to explain this to Jason. The former thief was going to be mad at him for this, but it was necessary. Bruce had to know what kind of shape he was in mentally and if he needed to be on medication.


	25. Chapter 25

Jason set up a laptop on the table and began reading the files on it. Batman wanted him to read up on some of his cases and try to get a feel for how the Dark Knight worked. He knew how to operate as a criminal. Now he had to learn to look at things from a detective's point of view. He'd spent most of last night reading and looking through crime scene photos. Alfred normally didn't allow anything crime-fighting related out of the Batcave, but Jason hadn't told him. He had too much to learn to wait around for times when either Bruce nor Robin were using the massiver computer system in the cave. Besides, if Batman had a problem with him having 'bat' stuff in the house, he'd tell him to take it back down.

"Make sure you put that where no one will find it," Bruce told him after glancing at the screen. He could tell something was wrong as Jason sat studying the old case files. He got up and stepped over to his foster son. He scanned the screen quickly. He remembered that killer. It was one of the particularly disturbing ones. It was one of the first serial killer Batman had ever hunted. "Are you sure you're okay reading this?"

"I'm fine," Jason answered, curtly. He was silent for a few seconds. "All these people had terrible lives."

"They did and they spread that terror to others," Batman told him seriously.

"And they all came from broken homes. One or both parents were abusive, and they committed petty crimes as kids….like me," Jason told him in a strained voice. "What if I turn out like them?" That thought scared him. Had it scared them too? He didn't want that. He wanted to have a happy, semi-normal family. Maybe it wasn't too late for him, but only yesterday he'd thought about telling the reporters something that would get Peter killed.

Bruce caught hold of the chair and swung it around, so he and Jason were facing each other. He took his son by the shoulders, tightly "You're not like them. Do you hear me?"

Jason was startled by the sudden reaction. He knew Bruce wasn't angry, more like desperate. "How do you know?" Batman would know if something was wrong with him, right?

"Because I know psychopathic tendencies when I see them, and you don't have that in you," Bruce answered. He was still intense and adamant about it. He didn't want Jason to think he was capable of doing those horrible things. Yes, he could be violent, but his violence wasn't directed at the weak or innocent. He was violent out of fear or necessity, same as himself, Robin or any other person who had been through what they had face.

"Are you sure?" Jason asked. If he was like that, he didn't want Bruce teaching him the things he was learning. It would make him more dangerous and that couldn't be allowed to happen if he was going to become like others who'd been through similar things as himself.

"Positive," Batman answered. "You don't want to hurt people or animals for fun, you value human life, and even if you try to hide it, you are very tenderhearted. And do you want to know how else I know?" If he honestly thought even for a second that Jason was going down a dark road, he never would have agreed to train him. He was making this child into a living weapon, and there was no way he could take that lightly. This was dangerous. He knew that, and he would never let Jason fall into what so many before him had.

Jason nodded. He didn't see how any of that told the Dark Knight if he was capable of killing like that or not. He knew what people could do to each other. What made him different from any of those people?

"You are so much stronger than any of them. They broke, you didn't," Batman told him. Jason gave him a skeptical look. "I'm serious. You may have cracked here and there, but you never let what happened shatter the person you are."

"I thought about telling Lane and Kent what my dad did to me even though I knew it would get him killed. There's something wrong with someone who thinks about doing something like that," Jason told him.

"But you didn't and even if you had, I would have stood by your decision," Bruce told him. "We aren't responsible for what other people to do each other." Batman took a deep breath trying to think of how to explain this. "I have been in situations where I could have saved someone and chose not to. I didn't not kill these people, but I didn't save them either, because they were too evil for me to help. If I was in the same room with your father and someone was murdering him, I don't think I'd be able to stop it."

"Able to?" Jason questioned. What Bruce had said about not saving evil people made sense. Hearing that made him feel somewhat better, but he wanted Bruce to explain he wouldn't be able to stop Peter's hypothetical murder.

"Because of the abuse he put you through no amount of time in prison is even going to make the beating I gave him enough to pay for what he's done," Batman answered without thinking.

Jason's head snapped up. "What?" he asked. When did Batman beat up his dad? And why?

Bruce stiffened. He hadn't planned on telling Jason about that. "Well, you see," he began. "The first night you were here after I saw what he had done to you I went down to central holding and saw your father under the pretence of wanting information on Two-Face. I knew he wouldn't talk before I even left here. He didn't talk, so I inflicted some of the same pain on him that he put you through." Bruce watched for some kind of reaction, but Jason only sat there staring at Batman's eyes, like he was trying to see into the man's soul. It was an unnerving look. One that bore straight through Bruce.

"You did that for me? When you didn't even know me?" Jason asked after what felt like a life time to the Dark Knight. "Why?'

"Because no one should be able to do that to a child and get away with it, especially not my child," Bruce answered, as best he could. Everytime Jason flinched or fear darted across his face, it took all of Batman's self control not to finish what he'd started. He wanted Peter to suffer. He wanted that man to feel the damage Jason would be dealing with for the rest of his life.

Jason's month moved, but Bruce couldn't make out what he'd said. "What was that, Jaybird?"

"Thank you," Jay muttered. Okay, yeah, it was kind of messed up of him to thank someone for beating up his dad, but no one had ever done anything like that to protect or defend him.

Bruce couldn't help smiling. Every day Jason was showing signs he was healing. "You're very welcome. Now, where is your brother?"

Jason was a little startled at Bruce calling Dick his brother, but he didn't question it. "He's in the family room. I think something's upsetting him. He was acting kind of weird this morning. Well, weird for him." Robin had been quiet and distant, which was the complete opposite of how he usually acted. Dick was a morning person, so Jay had come to expect the older boy to be in a somewhat good mood in the morning.

"I'm going to go check on him," Bruce said, turning to go. He walked into the large family room to find Dick sitting on the couch, staring at the opposite wall blankly. Bruce had seen that look on his face many times in the last four years. He went and sat down next to his eldest son.

"What's wrong, Dickiebird?" Bruce asked.

"I'm having a Down Day, Dad," Robin answered. A few months after his parents were killed, and he'd started to do somewhat better he'd found that once in a while he'd wake up with zero motivation to get up or do anything. He wanted to scream and cry. He wanted the pain out of his head, but it wasn't going to go away no matter how hard he tried to be okay. His eight year old's mind hadn't liked the word 'Depressed', so he'd started calling these days 'Down Days'.

"Do you know what caused that?" Bruce asked, wrapping an arm about Dick's small shoulders. He loved it when Dick called him 'Dad', but his joy at hearing that name from his son was overshadowed by the pain Robin was in.

"The usual stuff," Dick told him. "I'll be fine. I just wish it would stop." He hadn't even dreamed about his parents or dead people screaming at him for help or anything.

"I know," Bruce sigh. He hated seeing his children in pain and knowing he couldn't do anything about it made it that much worse. He could stop physical pain, but he was helpless when it came to emotional pain. "Do you need anything?" He sometimes wished Dick would agree to see a counselor or consider medication for his sporadic bouts of depression, but no one could be forced to do something when it came to this. He had to want it, and Dick wanted nothing to do with those options

"Yeah," Dick answered. "A cup of coffee." Why did this have to happen now? He wished he knew what set off his 'Down Day's', so he could stop it from happening. Last night had been great, and he had to go and ruin it by having this happen.

"Okay, well. Let's go see Alfred about that, and I want you to try to eat something," Bruce said. His voice was gentle yet serious.

Dick nodded. He didn't purposely not eat when he got like this. He just forgot. It didn't seem very important when he felt everything around him was falling apart. He and Bruce walked into the kitchen where Alfred was making breakfast. Jason had come in there to see what they were having and had hopped up on the counter to watch the bacon fry. The butler saw Dick and his expression softened. He was well aware of Dick's off days. It was hard to see such a pain-filled look on the face of a child. Those were not the eyes of a child. That had been taken from Dick. His eyes were those of a wounded warrior. Bruce and Jason had the same look in their eyes. Dick could usually hid it, but not when he was dealing with the residual effects of his trama. Then the pain flowed from his eyes in crashing waves. It was overwhelming for those who knew him to see him in that state, when they knew how happy he could be.

"Coffee, Master Dick?" Alfred guessed. Robin usually wasn't allowed coffee. He didn't need the caffeine considering how little he slept with his night job.

Dick nodded. "Thanks, Al," he answered. He needed to be okay. Bruce and Alfred had enough trouble dealing with Jason's nightmares and other issues. They didn't need him having a break- down on top of everything else. He mentally corrected himself. He wasn't having a breakdown. He was experiencing the aftermath of dealing with a horrible life-altering event. He knew how to handle it. He would be fine soon. He just had to get through the bad days and enjoy the good ones.

"Master Jason, is there a reason you haven't showered yet this morning?" Alfred asked with one cocked eyebrow when he noticed that the former thief was covered in sweat.

"There's a reason," Jason shot back. His tone was slightly defensive.

"And what would that be?" Bruce asked. Jason loved showers and being clean, so this was an odd reversal. After going for long periods where he didn't have access to running water, never mind clean water, it was only natural to relish what he hadn't been able to have.

Jason didn't answer for a few seconds. "I'm not going to get in there and have a killer spider jump on my face," he responded seriously.

It took every ounce of Bruce's self restraint not to burst out laughing. Years ago he would have said he wouldn't recover from his parents murder. The pain was still there, but now there was a reason more than being Batman to live. He was a father, and his boys needed him. He was their foundation and knowing that brought him joy that he thought he'd never feel again.


	26. Chapter 26

Jason looked at the small office Bruce had driven him to. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. He thought shrinks worked in large intimidating buildings, but then again maybe that was the point. People wouldn't talk if they were nervous. He didn't want to do this, but Bruce wanted him to try at least. What good would it do to talk about what had happened? Plus there was a lot of stuff he wouldn't be able to talk about because of Bruce's illegal activities, so it meant he would have to have his guard up. How was this supposed to help if he was hiding things? Well, he just had to go one time at least. Then he would be off the hook.

They walked inside and up the front deck. The receptionist asked for a name, and then handed Bruce a clipboard of paperwork to file out. The two of them sat down, and Bruce got to work.

"Do you know if your family has a history of mental illness?" Bruce asked. He'd already wrote down Sheila's drug addiction and Peter's alcohol abuse. Where there was substance abuse there was usually some form of mental illness, whether it was depression, anxiety or something else.

"I think Mom had problems with depression, but she was never diagnosed. I don't know if her parents had problems, and I don't know about Peter or his mom and dad," Jason answered. He read the questions as Bruce went through them, occasionally asking for confirmation. One inquiry stopped him momentarily.

"Have you ever attempted suicide?" Bruce asked, gently. That was terrifying, and he pushed down all the horrifying imagines that went through his head at that possibility.

"No," Jason said, shortly. He'd seen too many people die to think about something like that. He hadn't had a clue what to do or how he planned to survive. What he'd thought he was going to do with his life was anyone's guess, but he'd made it this far. Life was too fragile to throw it away.

"Have you been depressed for a week or more at a time?" Bruce asked.

"I got beat up every other night, and I saw two women die in my home," Jason said. His tone held a vacant air about it, like it always did when he talked about his past. "You do the math." That was a yes then. Bruce finished with the questionnaire and returned it to the receptionist.

It wasn't long before Jason was called to a room in the back. It was full of toys and books. At one side of the room was a large desk with a chair behind it, and two soft comfy looking ones were set across from the third chair. At the other side of the room there was a table with chairs around it. It reminded him of the room where he'd been interviewed when he was at social services, only this felt less like it wasn't just for younger children. A man sat behind the desk, looking at some paperwork. He was very tall and broad shouldered. His hair was thick, curly and dark brown and he had a rather messy beard. He looked up and smiled when he saw Jason standing in the doorway. "Come in," he said, waving his new patient to one of the chairs across from him.

Jason slipped across the room, like a ghost and sat down without making a sound.

"You must be Jason Todd. It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Reece Kilgore," the doctor said. How someone could be intimidating and gentle at the same time was a mystery to the former thief. "Just so you know everything we talk about is confidential. Your guardian won't know what we talk about unless you give me permission. Everything you tell me will stay between us unless you tell me someone is abusing you, if you're going to kill yourself, or if you're going to kill someone."

"Okay," Jason said, quietly. He didn't know if he wanted Bruce to know what they talked about, not yet anyway. He was just going to see how this went and take it from there. That's what life had become at that point. It was a waiting game and he was waiting for the next storm to break. "What kind of weird name is 'Kilgore'?" It was about the kind of freaky name you would expect to hear in Gotham. Kill and gore. That about summed up that terrible city.

The doctor chuckled good naturedly. "It's a Scottish name. My ancestors lived in Scotland, but they came here and brought the name with them. What about you? What kind of name is 'Todd'?"

Jason's eyes hardened. "A bad one." He wanted to change his name. He didn't want anything to remind him of his father. Especially not that man's name following his own, but he didn't know how to even begin that conversation with Bruce. He was too scared his guardian would say no, or worse be disgusted that someone like Jason wanted to use the name Wayne.

"And why is that?" Kilgore asked. His voice held a piercing tone to it, like he was searching for a response with just his voice. His greenish brown eyes had an inquiring look about them, and there was also something behind that questioning gaze that demanded a truthful answer.

"I'm sure you saw the news. My father is a murderer." Jason answered. He didn't see what this had to do with anything.

"And what are you?"

Jason paused, thinking that over. "I was a thief and a drug courier. Now I'm a kid in the foster system and a victim of child abuse." That last one hurt to say, but it was true. He didn't like thinking of himself like that, but it was what had happened. He couldn't forget it no matter how much he wanted to.

Dr. Reece smiled at him kindly. "But weren't you a victim back when you did those other things?"

"I didn't have time to think about it then. Now I have nothing but time," Jason answered. They sat for a long time, just talking about whatever subject they happened to land on. "I don't see how this is supposed to fix what's wrong with me," the former thief said finally. If this was what therapy was like he might as well stay at home. He talked to Dick, Bruce and Alfred about stuff like this all the time.

"I'm not trying to fix you, Jason. You'll most likely always have problems because of the life you've lived. Tell me; when you first got to your new home would you have told anyone there what you were feeling or what you've done?" Kilgore said, turning the statement around.

"No. Why would I?" Jason shot back.

"Exactly. You didn't talk to them because you didn't trust them and to a degree you probably still don't. You wouldn't come in here and tell me about your life just because I asked you to. You've been hurt by people you were supposed to be able to turn to above everyone else. Trust is not something you're willing to give at the drop of a hat. It must be earned, and that is what I want us to work on. Someday you may find that you're able to speak to me about the things you didn't think you would able be to, but that's not something that you should be pushed to do. It will only do more harm in the long run."

"So we're just supposed to have conversations about the best places to find drug stashes until I feel like talking about how I was beaten with a belt or strangled until I blacked out?" Jason said dully. This was going to take forever.

"Tell me, what were you thinking about when you mentioned those two things?" Reece said, jumping on that point.

Jason was a little startled by the sudden change. "I don't know... The night Bruce found me, and took me to the Manor. How he cleaned up my wounds and how mad he was that I'd been hurt. What does that have to do with it?"

"You weren't thinking about what happened. You were focusing on something good. That, Jason, is a wonderful place to start," Reece smiled. "You will have to learn to confront what happened, and we'll work towards that, but for right now, while you're still healing keep thinking about how Bruce saved you." It wasn't long after this Jason's session ended. Reece and Jay walked out to the main office to find Bruce reading a magazine. "Mr. Wayne, I would like to speak to you for a moment."

Bruce got up and followed the doctor back, while Jason sat down to wait. Dr. Kilgore led the Dark Knight to the back room. "I know you can't tell me anything that was said, but how does he seem to you?"

Reece nodded. "This is something where it's hard to define the line of oversharing, but I can tell you this: children are not as resilient as people seem to think. They simply have no choice but to weather the storms caused by other people's actions as best they can. If Jason is forced to weather many more storms I doubt he will be able to recover. As it stands I think he has a very good shot at learning how to deal with all of this and have a perfectly normal life," the doctor said, encouragingly.

Bruce sighed. "Thank you very much, Dr. Kilgore." He shook the man's hand, gratefully. That's what he'd been hoping to hear.

"One more thing, Mr. Wayne. I'd advise you to be very careful. You are his lifeline and if that line begins to fray, he will cut it, in his mind to save himself, but it will destroy any chance he has at ever being able to have a healthy relationship with anyone. He will despise the world for what it has done to him, and he will come to despise you more than he does his father. You are his last chance, Mr. Wayne. Do not let him drown."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very special thanks goes to Lunaxsol over on FanFiction for their help and advise with this chapter. Once again thanks for the comments and kudos.   
> Just wanted to let you all know that I might not put up a chapter for the next three days. It's all up in the air, so we'll see how it goes. ^_^


	27. Chapter 27

"How did it go?" Bruce asked as he and Jay got in his car. He was a little frightened at the realization of what the doctor had said. He held a life in his hands and any wrong move could destroy it, and he'd made so many mistakes already. How many more problems had he unintentionally inflicted?

Jason shrugged. "Fine. I guess. We didn't really talk about my old man or Kate or Mom that much."  
"Oh, what did you talk about?" Bruce was hoping this would work and maybe they could even look into doing some group therapy sessions. It might give him more insight into how Jason was feeling and dealing with what he's been through.

"My likes, dislikes. What my life was like before things got really bad. How I feel about my life now." Jason was silent for a moment. "I told him that even though I never hurt anyone and was desperate, I still should have been punished for the stuff I did. I mean a crime is a crime no matter what, and I committed a lot of crimes."

"And what did he say?" Bruce asked.

"He asked if I thought I should turn myself in and I said 'no and not just cause I don't want to go to juvie for it. I told him I wasn't going to turn myself in because the juvie in Gotham never did anything for anyone except make them into worse criminals than they were before they went in'," Jason said. "Plus I have too much to do to waste months being locked up, but I didn't mention that part."

"I know having to keep stuff from him is going to make this whole process harder, but I know you can handle it," Bruce told him. "So do you think you want to go again?"

"I guess. I mean, I'm not getting any better pretending I'm okay," Jason answered.

"How old are you again?" Bruce asked, half-amused half-sad at how old Jason sounded. He was a child, but he came across like someone who was far older than eleven. Both of his boys were like that and to a degree it hurt to know that they had been so harmed by the world that they had become adults before their time. They should be carefree and innocent. Instead they knew what was out there and what could happen to them and the people around them. Bruce was only twenty-seven himself, yet he felt so much older than that. They reached the Manor, but Bruce didn't put the car in the garage. "Stay here a minute," he ordered, before going into the house. He returned a few minutes later with Dick and Alfred.

"What is this about Master Bruce?" Alfred asked. Bruce had come in the front door and insisted they all go into the city, without any explanation.

"Dr. Kilgore thought it would be a good idea to get a pet, so you boys can work on learning to bond with other things and so you would learn responsibility," Bruce answered shortly.

"Are you serious?" Dick demanded, excitement in his voice. He had been wanting some kind of animal for a long time, but the last time he asked for a dog or cat, Bruce had said he'd think about it and ended up bring home Jason instead.

"Yes, I am," Bruce said. When was he not serious? He had wanted a dog growing up, but his mom was allergic, and when he was older he'd been too busy to think about it again. It would be good for Dick and Jason and it seemed like a good idea.

"Sir, this is highly unexpected," Alfred said. He wouldn't mind a pet at the Manor in the slightest, but a little warning would have been appreciated.

Bruce just laughed. He had been a little worried about the butler's response. "I know." As they drove back into Gotham, Batman glanced in the rear view mirror at Dick's excited eyes. "Richard, I owe you an apology. You asked for a pet, and I put off giving you an answer." The night he'd found Jason, before he'd left for patrol he and Alfred and been talking and decided it would be good for Dick, but after everything that was going on there hadn't seemed like there was the right time to let him, and now Bruce was regretting that. He didn't want one son to think he preferred the other.

"It's okay, Bruce. I heard you and Alfred talking about letting me get a pet the night you brought Jason back before you left for patrol," Dick answered smiling. He had been a little upset that it had been put off, but they had been in the middle of getting everything settled.

"So we're good?" Bruce asked. He didn't want Dick to think he'd been putting Jason ahead of him. He'd never do that. Jay just needed a little more attention right now. Things would get worked out, and they would find their new normal.

"We'll always be good," Robin answered seriously,

Half an hour later Jason looked from one miserable cage to the next. If this was therapy he going to be more messed up than everyone already seemed to think he was. Dick stood beside him, looking just as upset by the sight of all the animals.

"See anyone?" Bruce asked, gently.

Jason shrugged, but he stopped short. In the last pen there was a large German Shepherd Great Dane mix. He was big and dejected looking. Some of his fur had been shaved off, and he had bandages wrapped around his middle and two of his paws. "What happened to him?" Jason asked, looking at the other three members of the Wayne house hold.

"He was found beaten in an alley," the shelter worker answered, sadly. People were sick.

"Can I go in?" Jason asked, still looking at the dog.

"Yes. He's very gentle. If he feels threatened he'll growl, but he won't bite. We call him our gentle giant," she told him, unlocking the door for Jason, who stepped inside. He knelt down to the dog's level and let the animal sniff his hand.

Jay slowly stroked the dog softly. The animal pushed his sleeve up with his large wet nose until the scars from where Peter had burned him with cigarettes were visible. The dog smelled them then whined and began licking the marks. "Yeah," Jason said. "Someone hurt me, too. I know how you feel." He looked up at Bruce, the question written on his face.

Batman nodded. "You can have him" Of course Jay would pick the most hurt animal in the place. It warmed his heart to see Jason sitting on the floor with the dog as it tried to make Jason better. Hopefully the animal would end up doing that emotionally. Batman was glad the shelter worker didn't said anything about Jay's comment to the dog. Her eyebrows went up,but that was the only reaction he saw.

Dick sat down next to his brother and let the dog smell him as well. "I think he'll fit with our crazy quilt family."

"A what?" Jason asked, confused by the analogy.

"A crazy quilt is a blanket made up of blocks of material from worn out clothes or other blankets. That's what we are. At least that's what my mom would have called us," Dick told him. The thought made him smile. His parents would have loved Jason, Alfred and Bruce. He believed they knew he was happy and loved.

"So what are we going to name him?" Bruce asked.

"Well, I picked him, so Dick should name him," Jason stated. That was only fair. Plus he wasn't so good at picking out names. He'd never gotten beyond calling the teddy bear Bruce had gotten him 'Bear.'

Dick sat, thinking. "How about Ace? That seems like a good name for a master at surviving." That's what they did after all. They survived despite everything that stood in their way.

Bruce looked over at Richard. "Do you see anyone you'd like to take home?" He hoped he hadn't messed up with not doing this for Robin sooner. He really did feel bad about it.

Dick glanced around before going into the room where the cats were kept. It wasn't long before he had a little black kitten purring in his lap. Jason was already at the front desk waiting for them with Ace.

"We'll be there in a minute," Bruce called to his youngest son before stepping into the small room after Robin. He sat down on the floor next to Dick. "So who is this?" Batman asked, patting the small kitten on the head. It was so young, its eyes were still milky blue, and it walked on unsteady legs.

"I was thinking 'Titano'," Dick answered. That was the name of the elephant he'd ridden during the circus performances before he'd been allowed to perform with his parents.

"I think that's a great name. Let's get them both home." The Wayne family had gone from two to three to four and now six in a very short amount of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great job to anyone who got the 'Titano' reference. To anyone who didn't, it was on a poster in season 1 episode 24 (Performance), when the team is at Haly's Circus. Don't feel bad if you didn't get it. I had to look it up. ^_^


	28. Chapter 28

Part of Batman had thought or rather hoped Jason would give up after the first weeks of training, but far from quitting, Jason excelled at it. He worked hard and only complained when he was sore from escaping whatever trap Bruce had set up for him or after hand to hand combat. At first he worried that going through the motions of a fight would cause his foster son to shut down from the memories it would bring up, but all it did was make a resolved look come into Jason's eyes and his movements would become more sure, his hits harder and his eyes more focused. The fire in Jay's eyes was a little intimidating sometimes. It was cold as steel, yet burning wildly.

"You're out of your mind," Jason moaned from where he was lying on the blue mats that covered the floor. He'd just gone four rounds with Batman, and he'd lost miserably, of course.

"Be that as it may, how do you feel about how you did?" Bruce asked, ignoring the comment. He'd been careful not to hurt Jay, so he wasn't worried about the eleven-year old's dramatic out- cry. He'd seen a marked difference in his foster son's behavior since he'd learned the basics to protect himself. He was calmer and more sure of himself. Everyday Batman saw him healing more and more. Jay wasn't going to let Peter win, not now or ever.

"You mopped the floor with me. How do you think I feel?" Jason huffed.

"Do you feel confident you can take down an ordinary criminal?" Bruce asked.

"Someone like my old man? Definitely," Jason said. He wasn't as scared as he used to be once he realized that fact.

"Good, but don't get ahead of yourself. You never know what someone is capable of," Bruce said. He was avoiding what he really had to talk to Jay about.

"So, what's up?" Jason asked. He had learned that Bruce tended to ramble about the Bat side of their lives when there was something he didn't want to discuss.

"Wayne Manor's annual Halloween party is coming up soon," Bruce said, sitting down on the mat near Jason. The former thief didn't flinch away or even bat an eye at the close proximity. The billionaire's heart soared when he noticed that. While the rest of the country's big holidays were Thanksgiving, Christmas or New Years, Gotham really went all out for Halloween. There was just something about that holiday that captured what the crime ridden city was all about, and everyone who lived there loved it. "This will be the first time you'll be seen at a social function with Dick and me. There will be celebrities, paparazzi and a lot of Gotham's high society here. Do you think you can handle that?" They would be bringing in a catering service to handle the food and drinks like they always did for big parties. There were going to be at least eight hundred people there. It could be overwhelming to someone who wasn't used to that kind of thing, and Jason certainly wasn't. "So what kind of costume do you think you might want to have?" Dick had already told him he was going to be Robin Hood, and Bruce was planning on Sherlock Holmes.

"I don't know. I've never dressed up for Halloween, unless putting on a mask and knocking on people's doors to see if they were home counts. If they weren't there, I'd break in," Jason said.

"No, that does not count," Batman told him. That was actually a pretty good plan. "What did you do if someone answered the door?"

"Told them I was a robber. They all got a kick out of that," Jason said. A mischievous glint was in his eyes, and he would have found the irony of the situation funny if he hadn't been scared of getting caught.

"Well, is there someone you've always wanted to be?" Bruce asked. Growing he'd always dressed up as the Gray Ghost for Halloween.

"Not really," Jason said, thinking. He hadn't had time to think about pretending to be someone else. "How about a pirate?" he suggesting finally. He'd been watching the Pirates of the Caribbean movies with Dick and Bruce. He didn't much care for the fourth and fifth, but the first few were fun. A pirate was the only thing he could think of. Plus he had the scars for it, especially the one through his eyebrow.

Bruce smiled. "We'll see what we can find." He just hoped they got through this okay. He became serious once again. "Now some of the people who are going to be here are involved in criminal activity, so I'm going to give you a list of everyone who is going to be there, and you're going to go through all of their backgrounds, bank accounts, and anything else you can find." This would be good practice for going through a large suspect pool.

"Why are you inviting criminals to your party?" Jason asked. That didn't seem like a very hero-like thing to do.

"Because, these are white collar criminals who haven't been convicted of any crimes. No one knows what they're involved in and being the naive billionaire I am, I'm not supposed to suspect a thing and neither are you." Bruce got to his feet. "By the end of the day I want you to tell me who is a criminal and who is not." He walked over to his computer and pulled up the guest list. He then turned to go.

"If I get it all right, can I go out with you and Dick to meet the Commissioner?" Jason asked. His voice was half hopeful, half begging. He wanted to go out of the cave in his uniform for the first time. Alfred, Bruce and Dick had all helped him put it together and it was finally finished. He'd been practicing constantly with his gun (loaded with rubber bullets, of course), batarangs, grappling gun, and everything else Batman insisted he know. Turned out, he was very good at disarming bombs and evasive tactics. They would practice being under heavy fire situations with paintball guns. Jay had thought paintball would be fun, but it turned out it wasn't a game with Batman. It was hard core training. Plus, being hit with paintballs gave him welts, and he got hit a lot. He was, however, getting better at avoiding Batman which was the goal of that part of his training.

Bruce paused. He didn't much like that idea, but it would be an opportunity for Jay to get his feet wet and to get to know the Commissioner. Jim would have to meet Red Hood at some point, and Bruce knew his long-time friend wasn't going to be happy about this. He'd been mad as it was when he'd first found out about Robin. Another child in a mask, this one with a gun on each hip was only going to make things tense between them for awhile. Batman sighed. "You can come with us, but you won't be on the streets and you'll be spending most of the night in the Batmobile. If you get out of the car or disobey my orders in any way, I'll take your uniform and your weapons, and you'll not be allowed on the patrol," he said, seriously.

"For how long?" Jason asked. He had no intention of disobeying orders when he didn't even know what he was doing yet. People in masks usually got shot in Gotham. That was one of the reasons he'd designed his uniform the way he had. He could take off his mask and helmet, zip up his leather jacket, lose his guns, and no one would give him a second look. That was the problem with Batman and Robin's uniforms. They stood out too much, especially when considering the possibility of getting caught behind enemy lines with no back up.

"Permanently," Bruce answered, as he turned to go up to the Manor. He wasn't going to lose his son, because he didn't want to be told what to do. Jason didn't like being ordered about, and he had a rebellious spirit. That couldn't be tolerated in the field. It would get himself and others killed. Bruce would give him more freedom when he proved he could take orders and take care of himself out there.

Jason got to work on the list without a word. He didn't much like grunt work, but this was stuff he needed to know how to do. He went through name after name. It helped that if one person was up to something another person on the list was most likely involved with it too, which sped the process up somewhat, but there were still eight hundred names. Around noon Alfred came down with a glass of milk and a sandwich for him.

"Master Bruce told me what you were at, Master Jason. How is it progressing?" Alfred asked. He personally thought this was a bit too much for an eleven year old to undertake, but Bruce wouldn't have told Jason to do it if he thought the child couldn't finish by the end of the day.

"Almost two hundred down," Jason answered without looking away from the computer. Why did these idiots have to get so creative when there were breaking the law? It was getting annoying. His main problem was he'd get done with a name, and he'd found nothing. He'd then begin thinking he'd missed something. Weeding out the criminals from the upstanding people was the challenge, which was kind of the point, but that didn't make it fun.

"Might I suggest you take ten minute breaks every two hours?" Alfred suggested. The young master was going to ruin his eyes at this rate.

"Thanks, Al," Jason answered. "I'll keep that in mind. I have nine hours. That should be enough time." Technically, Bruce had said he had until the end of that day, which was twelve hours away, but Batman and Robin were leaving between nine and ten, and he didn't want to miss a minute of his first patrol, even if he was going to be sitting in the Batmobile the whole time.

It was eight o'clock by the time Jason finished. His eyes and head hurt, but he got up and took the list to Bruce's office, where he found his foster dad working. Jay had ended up eating dinner in the Batcave, too, which Alfred informed him would not be happening again. He handed the list to Bruce and flopped down in a chair. It took all of seven seconds before he was dozing off. He jumped up when he heard Bruce's voice.

"I'm impressed. You only missed one," Bruce said.

"What?" Jason demanded, jumping to his feet and looking over his guardian's shoulder. In the end only about one hundred and fifty of the eight hundred names were involved in some form of illegal activity. Which one had he missed?

"Army Cline," Bruce answered. "Don't worry about it. You did a great job."

"But I messed up," Jason huffed, flopping back in his seat. It he'd slowed down a little he would have gotten that one name. Now he was going to miss out on leaving the cave because of that.

"You're still training. Part of that is making mistakes. We keep mistakes in the cave, so that they don't do any damage. In the field or during a real case you'll have to be more careful," Bruce told him. He'd thought Jason would have missed five or six at the least, but one? He clearly hadn't given Jay enough credit. "You should get some rest while you can. We're leaving in an hour and a half."

"You serious?" Jason asked his head popping up at that.

"Yes," Bruce answered. He watched as Jay's eyes lit up. He loved seeing that light. It was rare for Jason to let his guard down enough for that look to come into his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Jason's first night as Red Hood! I've been waiting for this next chapter forever. :)


	29. Chapter 29

It wasn't long before the three of them were tearing through the streets of Gotham and to the Police Plaza (One PP) to see the Commissioner. Batman parked the vehicle a block away from the building, and they took to the rooftops. Red Hood was honestly a little frightened. He'd never used his gear outside of the cave before. Out here he was in the open. He was vulnerable and while his uniform did give him some confidence, it also made him a target.

Batman and Robin shot their grappling guns and swung down to the large police building, but Jason hung back slightly. He wanted to make a good entrance. It was his first appearance after all. He could see Batman and Gordon talking for a minute or two. Well, there was no time like the present. He shot the grappling gun and swung down, silently. He landed on the edge of the roof. He saw the Commissioner instinctively reach for his weapon.

"Hi," Red Hood said with a wave.

"Yours?" Jim asked Batman. He couldn't take his eyes off the red helmet. He was used to the bright colors of most of the sidekicks costumes. This was terrifying in a different way than the fear Batman caused. The empty white eyes in that blood red face was enough to make the Commissioner take a step back. He'd seen the two guns at once, and the fact that they were strapped to the hips of a child was wrong. That might have had something to do with Jim's response to this small masked child.

"Yes," Batman answered. He almost smiled when he saw the look on Jim's face. Hopefully that was the same reaction the criminals had. Everything about Jay's uniform was designed to blend in and in the same moment stand out. "Commissioner, this is Red Hood. He has decided to join me and Robin."

Jim shook his head. "How old is this one?" he asked, knowing he wouldn't get an answer.

"Don't worry, Commissioner, we'll watch out for him. Technically, he's not even supposed to be in the field yet," Robin told him, smiling.

"The city will put up with you," Jim told the Dark Knight. "But they threw a fit when you took on a kid. What do you think they're going to do when they find out you have another one?"

"You're assuming I even care," Batman told him flatly. He didn't need the city's approval. He just needed them to stay out of the way so he could do his job.

"You may not care, but I have to. Where do you think people go when they want to get a hold of you? I just got CPS to back off when it comes to Robin," Jim told him in annoyance. He didn't need this right now. He had a whole city to watch over. He didn't have time for any more problems.

"They won't know about him for awhile," The Dark Knight said. They would deal with that when they came to it. It wasn't like anyone could do anything about him having kids work with him. What were they doing to do? Arrest him for child endangerment? They would be stupid for even trying it.

Jim sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, which pushed his thin glasses out of place. "Nothing I say is going to stop you, but I'm going to tell you the same thing I did the first time you brought a kid into this mess; if he gets hurt or killed, that is on you."

"I know," Batman said coldly. He had known that the moment he'd allowed this to happen. He wasn't going to let Dick or Jay get killed. That would be the last straw that broke him, and he couldn't break, not now or ever. So he would have to keep them safe. That meant making sure they could handle anything that was thrown in their path.

They left after the Commissioner gave Batman what his people had on a drug smuggling ring. He'd been planning to bust them that night, but if the Dark Knight did it, he could get more information without having to cut deals. Well, that wasn't accurate. The deal was he wouldn't break their bones if they talked. Sounded fair to Jim.

Bruce parked the Batmobile in an alley, and he and Robin got out. He turned back to Jay. "Do not leave this car. Are we clear?"

Jason nodded. "I'd thought you'd learned your lesson when it came to parking in alleys," he commented, half teasing.

Batman would have smiled if he'd not been wearing his cowl. "Are you kidding? Stopping in that alley was one of the best decisions of my life," he said, before turning to go. He could have stopped in any alley in the Narrows, but he'd parked there for a reason. It was one of the those things he would think back on and realize it could have gone two very different ways. If he hadn't found Jason, seven years from now he might be chasing a young man though that very side street intent on capturing him for committing some terrible crime. He'd catch him and notice the similarities he bore to Dick and wonder if something could have been done to stop him from becoming like so many others in that corrupt city.

Jason was smiling behind his hood. No one had ever told him they were glad he was around. Sure, the members of his new family made it clear every day, but to have it said out loud meant the world to him.

Batman and Robin disappeared into the night, leaving Red Hood to himself. Hours dragged by, and it was around one in the morning when Jason was beginning to regret wanting to come along. Sitting there for hours with nothing to do was boring beyond words. He'd already memorized every sign on the buildings around him and any noticeable details about them in case Bruce quizzed him on it later. He'd also looked through every compartment in the Batmobile. Oddly enough he found an AK-47 under the back seat. It wasn't loaded or anything. Batman and Robin must have confiscated it not too long ago and not taken the time to dispose of it. What did Batman do with the weapons he found anyway? He should probably find out later.

Another half hour dragged by with Jason wishing he'd brought the ipod Bruce had gotten him so he could at least listen to music. Suddenly something caught his attention. A dark van was parked across the street from him and right next to a bank. Well, that wasn't suspicious at all! He watched as three men got out of the van and went up to the building. A few minutes passed, and they disappeared inside. Jason tried to reach Batman or Robin on their comms, but neither of them answered. That might mean they were either in the middle of something or their signal was being jammed. He couldn't very well sit there watching a crime go down and do nothing, but neither was he allowed to get out of the car. He wasn't going to be fired as a crime fighter before he even started. Without thinking, Jason slid over into the driver's seat and turned the keys over. The Batmobile's engine roared to life, and Jason cranked the stick shift into drive. He reached down as far as he could and found the gas pedal. Bruce had showed him the basics when it came to driving, but he wasn't prepared for the speed at which the large armored car shot out of the alley and across the street. He crashed through the front doors, sending them shattering across the office. He hit the brakes hard and rolling down one window he stuck his upper body out. He held the AK in one hand and one of his glocks in the other. Both were pointed at the shocked men. They raised their own guns, but some of their fear seemed to leave them when they saw it was just a child.

"You want to die, kid? There's easier ways to kill yourself!" one of the men shouted.

"Yeah, like yelling at the guy who's holding the AK-47," Jason deadpanned. "Now drop them or die."

Batman walked into the bank through a gaping hole where the doors were supposed to be, ignoring the stares of the GCPD officers he passed. There he saw Red Hood sitting on the Batmobile door, a large gun slung loosely over one shoulder. He was talking calmly with a detective, who looked as if he thought Red Hood was insane, which was Bruce's current opinion. Jason spotted them, and Batman would tell by his posture he was grinning behind his helmet.

"Hey, B! I stayed in the car," Red Hood told him happily.

Robin just about fell over laughing, while Batman stood by not sure whether to laugh or ground his new partner for the rest of his teenage life. Well, Red Hood had made an impressive debut, that was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyone who has watched 'Batman: Under the Red Hood' might recognize the AK-47 scene. I feel bad about using something straight from the movie, but I love that scene so much I couldn't help it! I hope you all don't mind. ^_^


	30. Chapter 30

The thing about Gotham was when they got invested in something, they were all in and they were very invested in the holidays. Any excuse to party was good enough for them and holidays were a very good excuse, especially Halloween. Every year a week before the thirty-first of October decorations went up and each house or business was trying to outdo the other. It made for a festive-looking city and entertainment for its inhabitants.

Personally, Jason didn't much care for Halloween. He had bigger problems than getting candy. The only good thing about it was he was able to wear a mask without people questioning it. Plus, how many times had he heard not to take candy offered by strangers? That had been drilled into him during what little time he'd spent at school. So why did that suddenly change on the last day of the eighth month? Adults were weird sometimes. Actually most of the time.

After Jason's little stunt the night before, he'd spent almost all day in his room, only coming out when he absolutely had to. He told Alfred and Dick it was because he was just really tired after being up almost all night, but that wasn't it at all. He and Bruce hadn't talked much after the AK-47 incident, and Jason had no clue how angry Batman was with him. He had figured it was best to stay out of the Dark Knight's way for a while.

He started when his door was pushed on, and Dick rushed into his room. The sun had just set, and Jason had figured the acrobat would be getting ready for patrol soon.

"Come on. Put something warm on," Dick ordered. He was pulling on his own heavy jacket.

"Why?" Jason asked. Something like suspicion crept into his mind. He wished he could just calm down, relax and enjoy the home he'd been given. He'd been training really hard, and the pressure and stress he was putting himself through was probably starting to get to him.

"You'll see," Dick answered cryptically as he skipped out of the room.

Now Jason was really on edge, but he put on his batman hoodie and boots all the same. He trudged down the deep red carpeted stairs to find Bruce and Dick waiting for him by the front door. Alfred walked into the foyer, carrying three thermoses.

"I am sure you will be wanting these, sir," Alfred said in his usual business-like manner. "It is rather cold out."

A few minutes later the three of them were pulling away from the Manor grounds. A sinking feeling was growing inside Jason. Bruce didn't like for him and Dick to go into the city unless they had to. Dick's school, meetings with Jay's social worker and doctors' appointments, and patrol were, of course necessary, but Jason hardly left the property, until last night and that hadn't gone very well. He would have been told if he had an appointment or had to see Ms. Felter, so where were they going? Robin was obviously happy, well happier than usual. and Bruce was trying to act all gruff and tough, but every once in awhile a smile would slip past his charade.

When they reached the city Dick started pointing out decorations right and left. Jason wanted to ask where they were going when he noticed that Bruce seemed to be taking a nonsensical path through the city streets, but he figured he'd get the same ambiguous answer Dick had given him. After a while of this Jason was starting to calm down somewhat, and he even took notice of the bright lights and wild decorations Dick was continuously commenting on. They still weren't going in any particular direction and more often than not, they ended up going in a circle before Bruce would turn down a different street, and they would start again.

They came across some road construction a few blocks from Gotham Square. Bruce turned down a side street that was very similar to the one he'd found Jason in and the one he'd parked in last night. Jason's heart sank. He knew he had messed up, but had it been bad enough to been punished with getting kicked out? He'd kept his word about trying to behave, and he'd just about kicked his nicotine habit. He really had been trying and now he was being thrown out because of one mistake.

"You alright, Jaybird?" Bruce asked, glancing in the rearview mirror. His gaze was met with angry, stormy blue eyes that were full of tears.

"Don't you dare call me that?" Jason shouted. How could Bruce pretend to care about him then go and dump him back on the streets? He'd thought he'd escaped the nightmarish world he'd been trapped in all his life. He'd been happy for the first time since his mom had died. He should have known better than to let himself get close to these people. Why had he let his guard down?

Bruce jumped at the sudden outburst. He'd only asked because Jason was practically radiating pain and sadness from the backseat. He pulled the car over and turned around in his seat to find Jason glaring daggers at him. The tears were still building, but he hadn't let them fall yet. Where was this coming from? Everything had been fine that morning. At least he'd thought it was. Had he missed something again?

"Do you want to explain yourself?" Bruce asked carefully. Jay knew he wasn't allowed to be disrespectful to him. Where was this coming from?

"What was all this? A game?" Jason said, his voice almost giving out. He tried to get out of the vehicle, but Bruce locked the doors. The construction had led them to a not so safe part of Gotham. It wasn't near as bad as Crime Alley, but it wasn't a good place to be hanging around. Come to think of it there were no 'safe' parts of Gotham. There were just places one avoided more than others.

"What are you talking about?" Bruce demanded. They'd gone a few days without any issues. They were overdue for a problem that would leave the Dark Knight wondering how he'd missed something so obvious.

"If you wanted to dump me why'd you take so long about it?" Jason hollowed. "Unlock the stupid door!" He tried to unlock it himself, but Bruce had disabled the passenger's lock.

"I didn't bring you into Gotham to throw you back onto the streets," Bruce said loudly, above Jay's shouting and cursing.

"We came to see the lights. We do every year," Dick said, quickly. He hated to see Jason's fear and pain. That was what it was even if he was still trying to hide it with anger.

That silenced Jason for a moment. "Are you serious?" he asked, slowly. He wasn't quite ready to allow himself to believe that.

"It's kind of a tradition or at least it has been since Bruce took me in. Why do you think we'd leave you here?" Dick continued. Jason wasn't willing to listen to Batman right then, so Richard figured he'd better step in.

"Well, you were acting all weird. Bruce hardly ever lets us into the city, unless it's important, and looking at Halloween decorations isn't something I'd assume the Batman did on his weekends. Plus, last night I got involved in a situation after I was told I wasn't ready to be in the field." Jason's voice rose slightly as he spoke. "So I assumed I was getting dropped off." His shoulders sagged with the emotional stress of the whole thing. Why couldn't he just relax, trust Bruce and Dick and be happy? What was so hard about that?"

"Jason, I've told you before I won't leave or abandon you, and I'd never take you back to the streets," Bruce said, gently. He should have made sure Jason knew last night that he wasn't in trouble, but he hadn't been scolded or punished, so Batman had just assumed Red Hood knew there wasn't a problem. He'd stopped a crime in progress without getting hurt and with no casualties. Granted, Jason should have been more careful, and while Bruce would have preferred he not have done anything given that he was alone and outnumbered, he'd handled it in a somewhat unconventional manner. "Everything is fine, I promise," he told his foster son.

Jason's head dropped. "Sorry for that," he muttered. It seemed he was doing a great job of making himself look like a complete nutcase.

"That's okay, but please tell me next time there's something wrong," Bruce said, smiling understandingly at Jason through the mirror as he pulled back onto the road.

"Kay," Jason answered. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment. "Am I in trouble for yelling at you?" he asked. His no video game punishment had just ended, and he didn't want it to start that all over again.

"Considering, you thought I was abandoning you, we'll it slide this once," Batman answered. "But only this once."

Later that day Jason stood at the edge of the pool, twisting the hem of his t-shirt into a knot. Bruce said he needed to learn to swim, but he didn't want to. Batman and Robin were already swimming laps from one end of the Olympic-sized indoor pool to the other. Bruce saw him and swam over to the shallow end where Jason stood looking down into the water.

"Are you okay, Buddy?" Bruce asked, watching Jason's eyes. He could tell his foster son was nervous, but learning to swim was important. He wasn't going to let Jay drown because he'd never learned to at the least tread water.

Jason nodded, still playing with his shirt.

"It will be fine. You can stay at this end of the pool, where you can reach the bottom," Bruce told him in a reassuring tone.

"That's not the problem," Jason said flatly. He sat down on the edge, letting his legs float in the chlorine filled water. He liked the smell of chlorine as long as it wasn't too strong. It reminded him of the summer after his mom had died. His dad been arrested for some petty crime and hadn't been able to make the rent. Having no place to go Jason had snuck into the city pool to use the showers and ended up falling asleep in a storage closet. He'd been able to stay there at night, undisturbed for most of the summer. It had been peaceful for the most part.

"Then what is?" Bruce questioned, lifting himself out of the water to sit beside Jay.

"I don't want to take my shirt off," Jason said after a minute. He hated how the walls eoched and made his voice repeat those words several times before fading. "I don't want anyone seeing the scars." Bruce and Dick didn't seem to care that they were both covered in marks from old wounds. Why didn't they care? Probably because their injuries weren't caused from their inability to defend themselves from one drunken man. All three of the other people living at the Manor had seen the marks the first night he'd been there, but Jason didn't want that to happen again. It made him felt weak, and he hated that feeling.

"You don't have to," Bruce told him quickly. He hadn't thought Jason minded the scars, but how could he not considering how he'd gotten them. His own father had tortured him and left the scars for the world to see. "The material from your shirt will get heavy since it's not made for the water, but you're not going very deep so it won't be a problem."

Jason sent him a small smile before slipping into the water. "Thanks for understanding," he muttered. He felt like an idiot. Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut about that?

"Of course," Bruce answered. Jason shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable. That was Peter's fault. Every day seemed to give Batman another reason to hate that monster of a man. He went through the motions of explaining some of the simpler swimming strokes. He'd never taught anyone to swim before. Dick learned to swim in the lakes and rivers near where his family had camped out in the circus' off season, so it had never come up. Hopefully, he was teaching Jay right. Then again, was there a wrong way to teach someone to swim? Well, if there was he was sure to find it at some point.

A while later Jason sat on the edge of the pool, kicking his legs back and forth in the water. Surprisingly enough he'd found that he liked to swim. His t-shirt got in the way, but that was okay. It was better than having to know that Bruce and Dick could see the scars. Batman came over to where he was sitting and once again lifted himself out of the water. Dick had gone into the kitchen to get them all something to drink.

"You did really well," Bruce told him honestly.

Jason only nodded in response. "Do you think the scars on my back and arms will fade soon?" They bothered him more than he'd realized until he was faced with having to remove his shirt.

"I spoke to Dr. Leslie about it after your first appointment with her. The marks on your arms will fade to some degree with time, but the ones on your back are deep, and there will always be some sign of them no matter how much time passes. We do have options, however," Bruce answered. He hadn't thought this would come up so soon. He'd figured Jason would want to do something about it at some point in time. He just hadn't thought Jay would be self-conscious at this age. When did he start feeling self-conscious about himself? It must have been when he was in his teens. Or was it after his parents had died? He couldn't remember. "There are some types of medicine that will help, and if you want I can find a plastic surgeon."

"I'll think about it, but maybe we could just try the medicine first," Jason said. He didn't like the scars, but he wasn't sure he wanted them gone. They were a part of him the same as the color of his hair or the shape of his eyes. Well, he didn't have to decide now or ever. If the day came when he wanted them gone, he only had to ask Bruce and he would make sure it was done. That thought surprised him. He had never thought he'd allow himself to put his trust in anyone, especially not someone who so closely mirrored Peter, but he found that he was relying on Bruce more and more. That was terrifying, and yet in the same moment it made him feel safe.


	31. Chapter 31

Two days later Jason stood in his room looking at himself in the mirror. Alfred had gotten him a pretty impressive pirate costume. He looked like he'd walked off the set of The Pirates of the Caribbean. Bruce had even gone up to the attic and found one of his ancestor's swords to complete the look. He said it was from the Revolutionary War. Batman had also found an old fashioned wooden pipe to go with his own costume and one of Dick's friend, Roy, had let him borrow a medieval longbow and a quiver full of arrows. Why a teenager had a medieval longbow was a mystery to Jason, but given the weird people Bruce and Dick knew it shouldn't have been a surprise.

There was a knock at his door. He could tell it was Dick by the sound. "Yeah," he called.

Richard opened the door and stepped inside. His Robin Hood costume looked like the one Russell Crowe wore in the 2010 Robin Hood movie. "You ready?" Dick asked. People were going to start showing up soon. There were already a few media vans at the gate, watching to see who was invited to a Wayne party.

"Yeah," Jason said, using the same one word answer. He was dreading this.

Dick sat down on the bed, with a quiet sigh. Ace was on the bed too, with his large head resting on his paws. Jason had been sleeping much better since they had gotten the big dog, and he insisted the dog be in his room before he went to bed. For the party, Dick had gotten some white makeup and put it on Ace in the outline of a skeleton. He actually looked kind of scary. Robin had wanted to do something for Titano, but the cat had made it very clear he had wanted no part in the festivities. "So what's wrong?"

"I don't want to do this," Jason told him in frustration. Bruce had made getting a costume fun, but that's where he wanted this to stop. People would be looking at him and asking him questions. He wasn't so good with crowds, and there were going to be a ton of people there. Plus, what if he did something wrong? He'd make Bruce look bad and the idea of doing that was terrifying. His foster dad had been really patient with him so far, and he didn't want to do anything that would mess that up. He didn't think Bruce would change, but he didn't want to risk it. He was happy, and he wasn't going to do anything that would take that happiness away.

"I know, but Bruce and I will be right there. Plus, there's all that food and candy," Dick said, trying to be reassuring and put a bright spin on things. "It won't be that bad."

"Sure it won't be," Jason rolled his eyes

Half an hour later the Manor was packed with people to the point they were flooding out onto the patio, despite the cold breeze that had picked up and the setting sun. All of them were dressed in wild or beautiful costumes and were laughing and talking loudly. Jason had never been around that many people at one time, and he found the whole thing overwhelming. He made sure Ace stayed by his side, and he never let Bruce leave his sight or rather Bruce never lost sight of him. Batman was keeping an eye on him, making sure he was okay at all times. That helped somewhat, but Red Hood still didn't like any of it.

"He's sure a little dear," a woman dressed as Cinderella gushed over him. "Who knew you could find such a cute little thing in the Alley." Her voice was sickeningly sweet and grated on every one of Jason's nerves.

"Well, the Alley's not full of monsters just as the Palisades aren't full of angels," Bruce answered cooly.

That got Jason's attention. Bruce was standing up for him in a subtle way. That made Jay feel somewhat better, until the next cutting remark came his way and they did come, one after another.

"I'm sure you know what you're doing, Bruce, but do you think it's a good idea to have a criminal in your house. I mean, he might steal from you." This came from Count Dracula of all people. Who was also Army Cline. "Plus, you never know what kind of drugs he could be on."

Jason had had enough. "First of all, I can hear you and second, he let you in here. What's the difference between a thief and you?" he snapped. He saw Cline's eyes get big with alarm, and he glanced around to see if anyone else realized what the small eleven year old had just said. Army was a white collar criminal. He took money from people to 'invest' only to use it to pay off previous investors. It was going to blow up in his face sooner rather than later, and he had to know it.

Bruce laughed, but Jason could tell he was mad as all get out. He hoped that that anger wasn't completely directed at him. " Vampires do steal blood, don't they. We've been watching old horror movies and last night was Dracula. Don't mind him, Army. He doesn't mean anything by it. Thank you for your concern, but Jason only did what he had to do to survive and he's not on drugs."

"Of course," Army muttered and walked away. He didn't like that kid at all. There was something about his eyes that wasn't right. It was like he was watching everyone and seeing through whatever show they were putting on for the other people there. It was disconcerting to have a child look at someone and smile like he knew every terrible thing they had ever done and was laughing at them for it.

Jason escaped from the ballroom as soon as he could. He officially hated parties. He hated being talked down to and he hated how all the wealthy snobs acted like they were somehow better than him. Like he was garbage, well he wasn't and he didn't have to take it. He'd just find a place to hide until it was over and all these strangers left his home.

"You should not be in the kitchen, Master Jason," Alfred scolded as he walked into the large room to find Jason sitting on the counter, legs swinging back and forth as he drank from a plastic milk gallon. Titano was sitting on the counter next to him also drinking milk from a small pool that Jay had poured out for the kitten. The butler didn't mention the ungentlemanly manner in which Jason was conducting himself, but then again he was dressed as a pirate, so maybe it was fitting.

"Why not?" Jay asked. He hung out in the kitchen all the time. Why should a stupid party change things? He didn't want to be there. He'd rather be down in the cave, training. Then at least he be doing something worthwhile. It wasn't like he had all the time in the world. Every minute he wasted being 'Brucie's latest wild publicity stunt' was a minute he could have spent training to be a crime fighter. There was a reason he'd been through a living hell. It was so he would know what it meant to be a victim, so he would know what it was like to be desperate and what it meant to be a criminal.

"Master Bruce's children should be out with him, enjoying the party. Also it doesn't look right for you to be in here with the servants. You are part of the Wayne family and that means you must act like one which does not involve being unsociable and rude to the guests, many of which are here for the express reason of wanting to meet you."

"You mean judge me and give me crap for being a thief. I see the way they look at me," Jason huffed. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'll stay here."

Alfred didn't much like the idea of sending the young master back in with those beasts, but it couldn't be helped. Perhaps Master Dick could do something to help. The butler left and returned a few moments later with a slightly worried looking Robin Hood.

"Hey, Jay," Dick said from the doorway. "What're you doing in here?"

"Drinking milk," Jason said, flatly. What did it look like he was doing?  
"You're leaving me alone with all the crazies?" Dick said, only half teasing. He'd been through this himself. He knew how Jason was feeling, and it wasn't going to get better any time soon. It had taken all of the four years he'd been here for the high society to accecpt him to some small degree and still most of them thought should Bruce send him off to a boarding school. They all assumed that this was some kind of game to the billionaire and he'd get tired of playing 'Dad' before much more time had passed. How could he not with a Gypsy and a thief for sons?

"I don't know how you've put up with this for four years," Jason said, the anger in his voice rising. "The 'Batler' already told me I need to get out there. Well, I'm not going." Robin gave him a funny look. "What? You put the word 'Bat' in front of everything else around here. Why not the butler, too?"

Robin laughed at that, but he got back to the problem. "It isn't easy at first, but someday it won't be so bad," Dick told him, with his usual optimism.

Jason sighed miserably and slumped back against the side of the refrigerator. "How did you get so good at this?

"I was a performer so I didn't have a whole lot of trouble figuring that out. The only difference between this and the big top is there's not sixty feet of empty space separating me from them. Plus, swinging on a trapeze is a lot more fun than being nice to a bunch of rich snobs," Robin answered as he walked across the kitchen and lifted himself up to sit next to Jay on the black countertop.

"Well, I'm not a performer," Jason huffed in annoyance.

"But you know how to not let people see what you're feeling." Dick thought for a moment. "It's just like when we're on an undercover job to bust up drug dealers." He dropped his voice so no listening ears would hear him.

"What?" Jason asked, surprised at the reference to the secret part of their lives.

"The guests are drug dealers, and you have to fit in so they don't suspect you. Get them to like you, so you can take down their operation. It's part of your training," Dick said, weaving a scenario that worked with the situation.

Jason laughed. "I don't think they would appreciate being low-down common thugs, which makes it even better." He started to hop off the counter, but stopped. "Oh. I think I messed up." He quickly told Dick what he'd said to Army Cline and how Bruce had handled it.

Robin smiled. "Bruce wasn't mad at you at all. It sounds like he wanted to punch Cline in the face, but that doesn't look very good, so he sticks with subtle insults, similar to what you did, but try to be a little more careful. Army's neck is in a noose, and it's getting tighter. People are dangerous when they're cornered and likely to lash out at anyone who inadvertently stumbles across what they've been doing. It doesn't help that he's paranoid. Try to stay away from him for the rest of the night," Dick advised. He didn't think Cline would hurt Jason, but the man wasn't likely to be stable given what was going to happen and given how close Jay had gotten to the truth.

"Okay," Jason said, before leaving the kitchen. The music seemed louder than it had before, and people were beginning to get tipsy. Red Hood didn't want to be around that, but he was used to it, and so far everyone there appeared to be the 'happy' drunk type. He could deal with that just fine. He about jumped out of his skin when a large hand landed on his bony shoulder. He whipped around to find Sherlock Holmes standing there.

"Are you okay?" Bruce demanded, gently. He kept his voice low so none of the guest would know anything had happened. He had wanted to break Cline's face for what he'd said. No, he still wanted to break him. He'd gotten rid of Army only to turn and find that Jason had vanished. He'd seen Alfred taking Dickie to the kitchen, so he'd assumed that's where his little Jaybird had gone.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Jason answered. He glanced around before meeting Bruce's eyes. "Are you mad at me for what I said to that guy?"

"Not on bit," Bruce told him with a smile. Normally he would want Jason to exercise more caution when dealing with people but given the circumstances, he was going to let it slide this time. He realized with a dart of surprise he was letting things slide more and more, but Jason was still learning and Bruce didn't want to bear down on him with rules and corrections.

"Well, hello Mr. Holmes," a woman said from behind Bruce. There was a laughing, smiling hint to the gentle voice that spoke of a mischievous nature.

Bruce turned around to find himself, or rather a female version of his masked persona. "Selina, I didn't know you were coming," he said. The surprise in his voice was evident, but so was the pleasure. He was happy to see her.

"Disappointed?" she asked, her eyes dancing. Catwoman hadn't wanted to go when she did, but she had stolen something she shouldn't have and she needed to get out of town, before she got into more trouble than she could handle.

"Not at all," Bruce said quickly. "I'm very happy to see you." Selina had left the city several months ago with only a brief good-bye and hardly any explanation. "Selina, this is Jason Todd. Jason, this is Ms. Selina Kyle." Had Jason read Catwoman's file yet? Well, if he hadn't Bruce would let him know that the only woman Batman had ever really cared about was a criminal wanted all over the world. That was bound to be an interesting conversation.

"Hi," Jason said, shaking her hand. Dick had told him all about Catwoman, but he hadn't been expecting her to be there. Her name hadn't been on the guest list.

"It's very nice to meet you," Selina said, sincerely. She was more than a little curious as to what had possessed Bruce to take in a child from the Alley, but she was glad to hear it. He was going to save this boy from what she had become. Maybe she could get some answers next time she met the Dark Knight after she latest burglary. She did enjoy their conservations as he 'tried' to catch her. Sometimes she wondered why he still bothered with that charade, but it gave them a chance to see each other without the eyes of Gotham on them. "This all probably seems kind of silly to you," she told Jason, sympathetically as she pulled back the bat cowl. Selina could see that same watchful distrust she saw when she looked in the mirror. He was studying her the same way she studied the buildings she broke into.

"What makes you say that?" Jason asked. He wasn't sure how he felt about Ms. Kyle, but Dick said Bruce liked her a lot, so he'd reserve judgment for later. He was honestly a little shocked Batman was okay with a criminal knowing his identity. It seemed kind of odd to be on good terms with one's enemies.

"I am from the Alley, too," she told him in a quiet voice, so no one would hear. It was a secret that only a few knew, and she wanted to keep it that way, but with someone who had just gone from the filth that was the streets of Gotham to Wayne Manor, she didn't mind. It had to be a culture shock for the kid. It had been for her.

Jason's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Really?" he asked. He'd never seen a woman from the Alley who wasn't trashy in one way or another, and Seline looked and acted like a lady. More so than any of the woman he'd met that night.

Selina nodded. "But I got out to some degree, and it looks like you're going to get out too. You've got a chance others would kill for. I know I would have." They talked for sometime, exchanging stories and shared experiences. "I know how hard it can be to trust people especially who remind you of someone who has hurt you, but you can trust Bruce with your life. He looks at you the same way he looks at his other little bird, and I've seen him jump off a building head first for Dickie. He'd do the same for you in a heartbeat." Thankfully the music was too loud for anyone to hear what she said.


	32. Chapter 32

Jason spent the rest of the party wondering if she was right. He knew Bruce would do anything for Dick, and he was beginning to think the same was true when it came to him, but he was afraid. Afraid to let his guard down, afraid to let anyone get close enough to hurt him and terrified of getting thrown back to the streets, but Bruce had promised. He couldn't live the rest of his life in a constant state of fear. This was his home, and this was his family, and that was that. No one could take that away from him and nothing could change that.

He wandered through the French doors. It had gotten cooler and most of the guests had gone inside to escape the chilly air. Jason was surprised to find a large zombie-like man sitting at a table by himself. Red Hood was pretty sure he was Frankenstein's monster or some other such character. He walked over and sat down across from the man. "Hello," he said shortly. The man didn't look very happy, and Jay wasn't sure if that was because he was being a bother, or he just didn't want to be there.

"Hey, kid," the man answered. There was something familiar about him, but Jason couldn't place him with the costume and all. "Todd, right?" he asked, dully.

Jason nodded. "I've seen you somewhere," he said shortly.

The man smiled. "Yeah. I'm a football player. I'm the quarterback for the Gotham Knights."

"Wesley Goodoll?" Jason asked. He didn't much care for watching sports, but he'd always liked number eighteen of the Gotham Knights. He seemed real and like a nice person. Plus, he was an awesome football player which was good for Jason's health.

The man nodded. "That's me. You like football, kid?" He was used to that kind of response from people. He liked being a kid's hero. It was cool to think about people watching him and cheering for him to make that pass. He wasn't in a very good mood, but he'd act like it for the kid's sake. He didn't much care for parties, and he hurt from his last football game.

"Don't know. I've never played, but my old man used to make me sit on the couch with him and as long you made the pass, he wouldn't burn me with his stupid cigarettes," Jason stated. He paused. He hadn't meant to say that, but it just came out. He watched as the quarterback processed those words.

Wesley looked at the kid. Had he heard that right? Yes, he had heard that, but he couldn't get his head around it. Every time he'd messed up some sicko had hurt this kid. How many times had he made a mistake in the last few seasons alone? He started replaying every time he'd fumbled the ball or his aim had been off.

"Sorry," Jason said quickly. "Forget I said anything." He started to get up to leave, but the football player stopped him with a motion of his hand.

"You can stay. I read that interview you gave, and it made it sound like you'd been hurt on the streets and like your father cared about you." It wasn't a question, just a statement that was hoping for an explanation. Wesley's childhood hadn't been a picnic, given his angry step-father and mostly absent mother, but he'd had his grandparents. He'd spent as much time as he could on their farm just outside of the city with his young brothers. He'd had some semblance of stability, and he'd known he was loved. What kind of monster did that to a kid! He had kids of his own, and he couldn't imagine something like that happening to one of them.

"People who hurt their kids usually get killed in jail," Jason explained with shrug. "Hey, can you not tell anyone about that, cause then my old man will get killed and it will be my fault?"

"I won't tell anyone, kid," Wesley answered shortly. He'd like to. Todd deserved whatever he got in jail, but the kid didn't need that on his conscience.

Jason brightened. "Thanks," he said, holding out his fist for the athlete to bump, which he did. "So are you supposed to be Frankenstein's creature or a zombie?"

"I'm Lurch," Wesley told him. Jason cocked his head to one side. "You rang" he quoted. Still nothing. "You know, Lurch from 'The Addams Family'. The old black and white TV show with the weird family. It started like in the 1960s, I think."

"Well, no wonder I don't have a clue what you're talking about. That was like forever ago," Jason laughed. Wesley spent the next half an hour explaining what a great show 'The Addams Family' was. "So why did you choose to dress up as a zombie butler?"

"Well, a while ago some guy called me 'Lurch' meaning I was big and dumb. I threw it in his face by turning the whole thing around and actually using the name as a joke. Letting people see when they get to you never does any good."

Jason laughed. "Tell me about it." It only gave people power over him and that wasn't something Red Hood was willing to let happen, not again.

There were a few moments of silence before Wesley spoke. "I'm sorry for what happened." He wasn't responsible for what someone else did, but he sure felt like he was right then.

"It's okay," Jason smiled. "Besides, it's over now." It was over. He never would have to be afraid of his dad again. He liked being at home, which was something he'd never thought he'd feel, and he liked being part of a family as odd as it was.

Hours later the party ended. Dick and Jason were in bed, asleep and Bruce and Alfred were in the kitchen, talking. "The boys did really well. You should have seen Army's face when Jay called him out, and Dick was a little gentleman as always."

Alfred smiled at the pride in Bruce's voice. "Yes, sir, but I would advise you see to it that Master Jason curbs his tongue. It will do more harm than good if he speaks so to people who would not hesitate to retaliate for his double meaning comments." Bruce did the same thing when he was that age, and he still did, but the difference was people were scared of his large size and powerful name. Well, Jason was associated with Bruce and his name, and people didn't yet realize that to harm Jason or Dick was worse than anything they might say or do to Bruce. If he couldn't break them physically, he would do so mentally or financially. For example, the paper that had printed those pictures of Jay was nothing but an empty office building now. Most of the people who thought they knew Bruce didn't realize that he could be a very vengeful man.

"I should, but it is hard to correct him sometimes. I just seem to keep scaring him. The minute I think things are starting to be okay I terrify him again," Bruce said, remembering how just two days ago Jay had been sitting in the car torn between pain and anger. Before the party ended, Wesley Goodoll had come up to him and told him what Jason had said to him. As a fellow parent he thought Bruce should know if he didn't already. Jason hadn't told him about that form of abuse, which explained why on one of his first days there, he hadn't liked Bruce sitting next to him while the TV was on.

"Sir, it will take time for him to really become happy here. Yes, he is safe and comfortable, but his mind hasn't gotten there yet. At the very least, he is no longer being hurt and he's learning what it means to be part of a family," Alfred answered as he sat down at the kitchen table across from Bruce. He had a cup of tea for both of them. It seemed like a long time since he'd enjoyed a cup of tea with his surrogate son. He and Bruce had spend many hours together in that kitchen even before the death of Thomas and Martha.

"I know. Fear is what our brains are wired to remember best. I just hate to see Jay scared all the time, and it hurts to see him like that. It's his eyes, Alfred. I can see him trying to be brave and face what he thinks is coming. I wish I could take all that fear and pain out of him," Bruce sighed. "I'd like to break Peter in half." He couldn't think of anything horrible enough to do to that man for what he'd done.

"As would any parent," Alfred told him. "You can't change what happened to Master Jason, and you can't take his fear away. I know you dislike not being able to do anything, sir, but this is something that will take time and even then the horrors he experienced will never truly fade. He'll have to learn to live with it just as you and Master Dick have learned to live with what you saw and what you both see every night. You must simple carry on as you have begun."

"Am I making things worse by training him?" Bruce asked. Dick seem to need the masked part of his life, and that was who Bruce really was, but Jason already had more problems than anyone his age should. Bruce didn't want to add to them.

"As much as I disapprove of training Master Jason, I have noticed a marked difference in him. He is longer afraid of his past. His father and occasionally you, still trouble him, but he now has the tools and confidence to protect himself, and you gave him that," Alfred answered.

"He identifies me with his father to a degree. I do after all fit the same criteria: male guardian, strong, black hair, and a reputation of drinking too much," Bruce listed.

"Not to mention a violent lifestyle," Alfred pointed out. He likely sees the most glaring similarities in that quarter."

"I guess you're right," Bruce answered. "But he is getting better. You should see when his eyes light up over the most normal things."

Alfred smiled. "Progress comes in little steps. Just continue to build on what is already there, the good and the bad. I imagine some day we will look back and be astounded at how far he has come."


	33. Chapter 33

Sometime later Bruce went upstairs for bed. He stopped at Dick's door and opened it to check on his eldest son. Robin was sleeping peacefully. He then went to Jason's door and pushed it open silently. His heart was in his throat when he saw that the bed was empty. Where was Jay? With a jolt of relief he saw a small figure outside.

Jason sat on the balcony railing, with his legs hanging over the side. His head was thrown back, and he was looking at the stars. He couldn't see the stars from Gotham with all the lights, and now that he was out of the city he took every chance he got to see them.

"Buddy," Bruce called, softly from inside Jason's room.

"Yeah," Red Hood called back. The

French doors were opened, and Batman walked out and stood next to him.

"What are you doing out here?" Bruce asked. Concern and curiosity were mixed in his voice. "It's really cold out."

"Wanted to see the stars," Jason told him, not looking away from the sky.

Bruce disappeared back and returned a moment later with a thick, heavy blanket. He handed it to Jay, who draped it over his shoulders. "Are you doing okay?" the billionaire asked. His foster son could be pretty quiet sometimes, but right then he seemed pensive and that worried Bruce.

"Just thinking of where I'd be right now if you hadn't found me" Jason answered. "If I hadn't gotten killed by now, I'd be sleeping in a cardboard box next to a dumpster on Walnut Street. There's a bakery near there that throws their old stuff out really early in the morning. I'd get something to eat and then go looking for a place to pawn whatever I'd stolen the night before. Later I might run deliveries for the Skulls or keep an eye on someone for them. The Skulls pay better than most and if I have information on another gang, they'll let me crash at one of their hideouts for the night."

"Were you afraid of the gangs?" Bruce asked, carefully. He didn't want to bring up any bad memories, but he wanted to know what Jason had been through, especially after what Goodoll had told him. Every day he seemed to learn new and terribles things about Jason's old life.

"Depended on whose friend I was considered, but people from most of the gangs knew me and didn't care if I hung out at their places as long as I stayed out of their way. So I guess not, but there were times I should have been," Jason said. His eyes dropped to the lights of Gotham.

"What did scare you?" Bruce asked. He had a rough idea, but Jason seemed to be in a mood to talk which was odd for him, and Bruce wanted to help in anyway he could.

"My old man, his bottles, his cigarettes, and his belt. He had a temper on him. It nearly got him killed a few times. I was a little freaked out the first time he came home and told me someone had tried to shoot him."

Bruce hadn't been expecting that. "Scared of losing him?" Was this before the abuse got bad, when Jason still relied on his father?

"No. I was scared cause I found myself wishing that bullet hadn't missed," Jason answered. He didn't look at Bruce, just the city, like he was back there in that rat trap of an apartment.

"You know that's okay, don't you?" Bruce asked. "You were tired of being in pain and living in fear." He didn't want Jason blaming himself for feelings that were normal given the circumstances.

"Yeah," Jay said shortly. He was silent for almost a minute. "I can figure most people out within the first few minutes of meeting them. It's part of why I'm alive, but reading you took me longer than anyone I've ever met, and sometimes all I see when you're thinking is a wall. I guess that's one of the reasons you bothered me so much. I mean… you come across like either a ruthless insane guy or an airhead, who's only interested in cars and girls. So why waste your time trying to help gutter trash, who tried to steal from you and has more problems than I can count?"

"I told you I just couldn't drive away and leave you there. If you were Dick, I'd hope someone would help if I wasn't there,"

"Speaking of Dick, did you decide to keep me around because I look similar to him, and you and I can reasonably be mistaken for blood?" Jason questioned. Would Bruce have still saved him if he didn't look the way he did?

"Blood doesn't matter to me, and no, that's not why I decided to keep you. I see Dick in most of the children I have contact with in my work. Plus, I couldn't very well tell what you looked like under all that mud," Bruce teased.

Jason laughed softly. It was a light musical noise that warmed Bruce's heart. After Dick had found his way into Bruce's heart, the Prince of Gotham realized that he'd never be able to let the little acrobat go. To lose him would break him and that level of vulnerabilities was something that he found terrifying. At first he'd only had one weak point, Alfred. Then two and now three. He'd been looking over his notes to take down the Justice League if it ever became necessary, and he'd become even more aware how easy it would be for someone to take him down. All someone had to do was get to his sons, and he'd be stopped in his tracks.

"I guess you're right," Jason said. "And about the other day, I really am sorry." He'd snapped at Bruce and cussed at him after all and part of him didn't feel like it was resolved. Maybe that was because he hadn't been punished in anyway.

"It's fine. I told you not to worry about it. You thought you were losing your home. It was an entirely reasonable response, but I will ask you not to use that kind of language with me or anyone else ever again," Bruce said, smiling gently, yet there was a serious look in his eyes.

"Hey, that was mild compared to my old man and his friends," Jason said. He smiled back at Bruce. "Besides I'm a street kid. I'm supposed to have a foul mouth. It comes with the territory, after all."

"I guess you're right," Bruce said. He became serious again. "Jason, I want you be be honest with me about something."

"Sure," Jay answered, looking at him.

"Are you happy?" Batman asked. His tone was worried and almost sad.

"Well, yeah. I mean I've never really been happy before this. Happy is a luxury on the streets, unless you're on drugs, then happy costs only what you have to steal to pay the dealers. Only two people before now have treated me like a child, much less a human being." Jason hoped that made sense. The feelings were in his head, but he couldn't really get them into words. "You know 'Children aren't as simple as we'd like to think'."

"What does that mean?" Bruce questioned, a little confused by his foster son's seemingly unrelated statement.

"Line from a song. People see a street kid. and they think 'thief' or 'druggie' and yeah that may be true, but there's more. If most of those kids had some stability and love they'd be somewhat normal or at the least functioning," Jason told Bruce. Depression and sadness radiated from his musical voice.

"When did you realize the problems of society?" Bruce responded. He somehow managed to find the most serious children. It was kind of bittersweet in an odd way to listen to their view of the world given everything they had seen and done, and Bruce loved when his birds opened up to him. When they told him what was going on in their heads.

Jason shrugged. "You see enough bad stuff, and you tend to find the source of it at some point. One night after my old man had really gone at me, I was sitting in the alley of our apartment. A girl was on the other side, just standing there. She was about fourteen, I think. Her nose was broken, and she had a black eye. She was selling drugs to kids younger than herself. I started wondering where all of the kids out that night would be if we didn't live in that nightmare. I guess the problem with living in a nightmare is the only place to get away from it is to sleep, and even then it follows you. You can only hide from one nightmare," Red Hood tried to explain. "So, yes. I am happy. I'm probably still going to freak out and have bad dreams, but I'm not waking up to still being trapped in one, and the hurt and fear that made me this way are over. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to stay here on a permanent basis?" Bruce asked, hopefully. He wanted to put this question to Jay from almost his first week there, but he didn't because he was worried Jason would say 'no' because he was afraid of being hurt again. He deserved to have a home and a family that loved him unconditionally.

"So you mean like how Dick gets to stay here?" Jason said. Did that mean he'd never have to leave or live anywhere else?

"Yes, just like Dick. Jaybird, I'm asking you if you want me to adopt you," Bruce clarified. He was a bundle of nerves. He'd been the same way when he'd asked Richard that question. The seconds dragged by as the former thief took that in.

Jason actually jumped. "Why?"

Bruce had suspected he might get a response like that, and he had an answer ready. "Because I want you to be part of my family, officially anyway."

Jason sat thinking that over. "You know I'm always going to have baggage, right? I'm never going to be that perfect child. All this," Red Hood said, gesturing to the Manor and everything around them. "isn't going to make things change that I've done or what I've been through. I'm damaged, and I know it."

"I don't expect you to be perfect. I don't expect you to act as if the abuse you've suffered didn't happen, or it didn't affect you." Bruce told him gently. "I don't forbid Dick his nightmares and pain nor would I do so to you."

"I want to stay here, Bruce. I don't want to go back to the streets or some boarding school," Jason said, his voice growing more sure. "I...I wish you were my real dad."

"Jason, you have no idea how happy that makes me," Bruce said, pulling Jay into a tight hug. He scooped his foster son up his arms and carried the little thief back inside the warm house. "You need to get to bed. It's late. We'll tell Dick and Alfred tomorrow."

"You mean today. It's past midnight," Jason corrected. He wasn't sure how he felt about being carried. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been picked up and he was a little old for it, but after a second he decided he didn't mind considering it was Bruce.

The Dark Knight set him gently down on his bed. "Yes, it is. I'll see you in the morning," he said. "Good night."

"Wait, Bruce," Jason call after him, as Bruce was about to walk away. The Dark Knight was right back beside his bed.

"Yes?" Bruce asked. There was an odd look on Jason's face that he couldn't quite figured out.

"Does this mean you'll be my dad?" Jason questioned. He was sure that's what being adopted would mean. Once in a great while Dick would call Bruce 'Dad' usually when he was really excited or really upset.

Bruce paused. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing in Jason's mind. "Yes, I'll be your adopted dad." That was just one more call back to Peter. He had hoped Jay wouldn't think about that.

"Okay," Jason said. "Good night, Dad."

Jason was more than reluctant for Bruce to tell Dick what they had talked about the night before. He'd interrupted Robin's life so much in the past few weeks. Now he'd be interrupting the rest of his life. He'd taken up so much of Bruce's attention since he'd come there and that wasn't fair. He didn't want Dick to resent him. Robin was the first real friend he'd ever had. He didn't want to lose that. What if Dick hated him because Bruce wanted to adopt him too? He should talk to Bruce and tell him that he wanted to think about being adopted and he didn't want to make a decision yet.

Jason got up to find Bruce before he could bring Alfred and Dick to his office, where he'd been waiting, but the door opened and Bruce ushered Robin and Agent A into the room. He was smiling and clearly happy. Jason didn't know what to do, so he sat down again, kept his mouth up and hoped Dick wouldn't hate him.

"So Jason and I were talking last night about what I'd discussed with you a few days ago, Dick," Bruce began.

Jason was surprised to hear that. Bruce had already talked to Dick about this? Well, of course he had. So maybe Dick was okay with this. After all, Bruce wouldn't have asked him if he wanted to be adopted if the Dark Knight thought it would hurt Robin. He saw Dick sit up a little straighter and a look of anticipation was on his face. Jason hoped that was a good thing.

"And Jay has decided he wants to be adopted."

Dick let a whoop of joy and pulled Jason into a hug. "I was hoping you'd say yes. Now we'll be brothers for real." Bruce had brought this to him about a week ago. As difficult as this had been, Jason needed them and they needed him. He was a piece of their crazy quilt, and Dick wanted him to stay at Wayne Manor and with them.

"You're okay with me staying?" Jason asked, tentatively. He had thought Dick would have wanted him to leave even with all the fun they had had together. He didn't think he would like it very much if Bruce had just randomly brought home some kid.

"Of course," Dick answered, with a smile.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! Thanks for reading, commenting, or leaving a kudo. I will be posting a new story as soon as the last chapter of this one is up. ^_^

Red Hood stood in front of the one-way glass looking at the man suspected of causing ten deaths. He was not a very impressive figure. He was a small weak man, who wore large thick rimmed glasses. He didn't look like the serial arsonist that he was believed to be. Oddly enough, there had only been one victim per fire. The houses that were set ablaze ranged from cheap low income properties to a mansion outside of Gotham. The problem was finding a motive. There seemed to be no connection with any of the people killed. The victims varied in age, gender and race.

Batman was talking to the detectives, who'd been trying to get a confession. They couldn't break him. Robin wasn't there because he was helping Flash and Kid Flash on a case in Central City. Jason knew three of the people killed, not personally or anything. Drunks and criminals, like his old man. He had an idea what this whole thing had been about after looking at the victims' records, but he was hesitant to mention it. This was his first real case, and he didn't want to make a mistake that would make Batman think badly of him. If he was right he could get a motive and confession from Mr. Robert Blanc, the unassuming nine-one-one operator.

"Batman, could I try getting him to talk?" Jason asked suddenly.

The two detectives looked a little skeptical and uneasy at the prospect. "If we couldn't and Batman couldn't, what makes you think you'll be able to, kid?" Detective Trey Hartley asked.

"Because I think I know why he burned down the houses he did and killed the people he did," Jason said, shortly. "And it's Red Hood, not kid." He looked at Bruce waiting for an answer.

"You can try," Batman said, still watching Blanc. It was understood that if Jay felt unsafe or the suspect became threatening Red Hood was to get out of there at once.

Jason took a breath and stepped quickly into the small, slightly stuffy room. The detectives had turned the heat up, so the room would feel uncomfortably warm. Red Hood made his breathing come fast and fearful. He looked at Blanc and jumped in fake surprise. "Sorry. I didn't know anyone was still here," he said, dropping his head in embarrassment.

"It's quite alright," Blanc said in a soft, calm voice. He definitely was out of place in a police interrogation room. "Now, who are you?" the man asked in a welcoming tone.

"I'm Red Hood," Jason said. "I just started as a hero." As he spoke he sat down in the chair opposite to Blanc, just like he had with his father not long ago. He took his red metal hood off. He wore a red mask like Robin's underneath his helmet, so it didn't matter. Blanc would feel as if Jason was being open and honest with him if he made some kind of concession. It would help build a rapport and showing a part of his face that he could was the only thing Jason could think of on the spot.

"Can I ask what you're here for?" Jason asked, in a timid and uncertain voice. He felt anything but. He was sure he was right about what Blanc had been at.

"The police and Batman believe I killed ten people," Blanc said. "I'd think you would know that since you work with Batman, and you are here with him."

Jason shrugged. "He doesn't really talk to me." He took out his pack of cigarettes. He'd swiped it from Bruce's desk before they'd left for patrol in case he had a chance to test his theory. He took out his lighter as well from his black utility belt. "Do you mind? My nerves are completely shot."

"Not at all," Robert said.

Jason offered him a cigarette which the man took. When Blanc was first suspected of being involved, he, Batman and Robin had stopped by the man's apartment, and Jason had noticed an ashtray full of cigarette butts. They sat there for a moment in silence, both sending smoke into the air. Jason didn't inhale, he just held the smoke in his mouth before letting it out slowly. He didn't want to get hooked on nicotine again, but a smoke seemed to help loosen the tongue on someone like Blanc and that was what Red Hood was going for.

"Why are your nerves shot?" Robert asked. "You look a little young to be so on edge."

Jason laughed a note of sadness in the sound. "I follow a guy who beats criminals to the brink of death and who has a temper like you wouldn't believe. It tends to wear on you after awhile."

"Then why don't you quit?" Blanc asked.

"Not really that simple. It's not like I have anywhere else to go," Red said. He knocked the ashes off the end of his cigarette. He looked at it for a moment. "I'm dead if he catches me smoking again, but I have to deal with it somehow. And what about you? Going to cut a deal, or let a jury decide?"

Robert waved his hand at the question as if he was brushing it away, along with the smoke that had collected around his head. "There is no evidence I killed those people, because I didn't have anything to do with it. What is it you have to deal with?" He seemed more interested in what Jason had to say than the fact he was in police custody for multiple murders.

"I said Batman has a temper. Making him mad can be...painful," Jay answered. He forced his hand to shake as he talked. He hated to say things like that about Bruce, but everyone assumed that Batman was completely out of his mind, so he was playing to that.

"But he fights crime." A spark of anger had risen in Blanc's voice.

Jason groaned. "Please tell me you haven't fallen for his self righteous act like everyone else?"

"Are you in danger, Red Hood?" Robert asked. He'd slipped back into the nine-one-one operator, who had to keep his cool.

Jason made no answer at first. He just looked Blanc in the eye and let his face tell the story. "I don't care if he beats on me, but when he starts in on Robin then I get mad. I pulled a gun on him once. That was a really bad idea."

Anger was etched on Blanc's face and his eyes had changed to ones of cold fury. "How can he claim to protect people when he hurts his own children!"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Jason said and started to get up. "Well, thanks for letting me hide out here for a while. It's going to be bad this time, so it was nice talking to someone."

"Sit down, please." Blanc half ordered. He had completely changed.

Jason did as he was told. Now he was getting somewhere. He'd gotten to Blanc. He had the killer right where he wanted him.

"I think you should tell the police," Robert said, trying to remain in control.

"The police? Are you joking? What could they do? Batman put two S.W.A.T teams in the hospital when he first started being a vigilante, and they tried to take him in. They can't do anything," Red said, his voice hopeless.

"I can help you," Blanc said, suddenly.

"How?" Jason asked, cerious, but not too eager. He so had this guy. Now he just had to make sure he didn't mess up.

"I can kill him," Robert said in an undertone.

"Joker, Two-Face, Clayface and about a million others couldn't kill him. What makes you think you could?"

"It would be easy. I just have to catch him when he's not expecting it. I'll hit him over the head, then set a fire. He won't be hurting anyone else," Blanc said. There was an icy enjoyment in his voice that was terrifying to hear.

Jason could have taken a bow for his performance, but he wasn't done yet. That wasn't enough for a conviction on the ten murders and fires. "That's an idea, but why would you do that? It's not like it's your problem. You don't even know me."

"I know you deserve better, and yes, it is my problem. I can't stand parents hurting their kids. That's why I set those fires and killed those people," Blanc said. "See their neighbors would call and tell me about me about hearing this person or that person hitting their son or daughter. I'd send an officer to the address, and the kid would deny anything was wrong. Do you know what it was like to get a call from another person within a day or two, reporting the same thing? They had to be stopped, and I knew where they lived. It was so easy once I started. I should have began years ago."

Jason stood up. "Thanks. That's all I needed to hear." He stepped out of the room as the detectives entered. His first official interrogation was a complete success. That had been a little more stressful than he'd thought it would be, and yet it was so easy somehow.

He looked up at Batman, who looked very pleased. Red Hood couldn't help, but feel guilty. "I'm sorry I said that stuff about you. I just couldn't think of any other way of getting him talking." He'd been describing Peter, not Bruce.

"I know. How did you know that's why those people had been killed?" Batman asked. He'd left a lot of the paperwork to Jason, considering given how well he'd done with the Halloween party list.

"Well, I knew some of them. The police were called to their places on a regular basis, and Blanc is a nine-one-one operator, so I figured the others had gotten the visits from the police as well and Blanc might have taken things into his own hands," Jason explained.

"Good job," Bruce said. He couldn't have been more proud. He'd suspected that was the case all along, but Jason had put it together himself with relative ease. "You did wonderful."

Jason beamed. That praise coming from anyone but Batman would have been next to meaningless. Bruce thought he'd done well and that was the only thing he cared about.


	35. Chapter 35

A few months after Red Hood's first official case, Jason found himself putting on a suit and tie. He'd never imagined he'd wear anything like this, but here he was. He couldn't decide if he was nervous or excited. Today was the day he was going to be adopted. He never imagined this would actually happen. There had been weeks of lawyers, paperwork, and talking with his social worker. Through it all Bruce had never wavered or acted as if he wanted to change his mind. Jason felt as if a weight was being lifted off his shoulders. This was going to be his home forever and Alfred, Dick, and Bruce his family. He never had to leave, and he never had to be afraid or alone again. The pain he'd known his whole life was over, and he was completely free of what he thought his future would be like. He was going to have what kids from where he was from could only dream of, and he wasn't thinking about living in a mansion. No, that meant nothing to him. He wouldn't care if he lived in a tiny rat infested apartment if only he still had the other members of the Wayne household as his family.

Dick rushed into his room, without knocking. He was bouncing from one foot to the other, an excited smile on his face. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"I would be if I could get this stupid tie on," Jay huffed, as he tried for the hundredth time to tie the slippery piece of cloth. What was important about ties anyway? He didn't get it. The black three piece suit he wore was also a pain, but Bruce and Alfred had looked so pleased when they'd taken him to get it fitted that he hadn't complained all that much about it. The tie was a completely different story, however. He didn't like things touching his neck. It reminded him of his father's belt. He pushed that thought down. No. He wasn't going to let anything Peter had done control even one facet of his life. So he'd wear the stupid tie, if only to prove that he could.

"Here. I'll do it," Dick said and coming over to where Jason stood in front of the mirror, he carefully tied a Windsor knot. "Now, are you ready?" he asked again.

Jason nodded. "Just nervous." He hoped that Robin wouldn't take that as meaning he was having second thoughts. For probably the second time in his life he was sure about something. The first thing was deciding he wanted to be a hero, and that had turned out great. He was sure he wanted this. He couldn't stand the thought of living anywhere else or having anyone else as his family. He was finally home. Now, they just had to make it permanent.

The drive down to the court house was peacefully quiet and yet it seemed to take three times longer to get into the city than usual. Jason found his thoughts drifting back to his time in the Alley. He'd never dreamed he'd leave that place. And having a awesome family? Well, that was just delusional. Yet there he was, and he could hardly believe it.

"Are you ready?" Bruce asked, breaking though Jason's reflection. Alfred had parked in front of the large imposing court house.

Jay nodded. He'd been ready for weeks. The four of them walked into the building together. Dr. Leslie was there and waiting for them. She was to be one of the witnesses for the adoption and Alfred the other. She smiled when she saw them.

"You all look excited," she told them. Leslie had hoped more than anything this would happen. She knew Bruce would make a wonderful father and give Jason back some of his childhood.

Dick began chattering incessantly as they walked down the halls to the waiting room, where a secretary sat typing away at a computer. A few minutes passed until Bruce's lawyer, Rachel Green, walked in. She was followed by a man who introduced himself as the district clerk, Manuel Gonzalez. The small waiting room was beginning to feel crowded, but then the door to the judge's chamber was opened and everyone was told to come in. The judge sat behind a large desk that had a little plaque on it that said: Marie Vargas. She was the same judge who had been there for Dick's adoption, and she smiled when she saw them.

"Good morning, everyone," the judge said, in a business-like tone. "Let's begin, shall we?" She looked at , who pulled some paperwork out of her briefcase and placed it on the judge's desk. She scanned it quickly before giving a pen to Bruce for him to sign.

Jason slipped up next to his guardian and looked over the document. It read: I, Bruce Wayne, being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare Jason Peter Todd as my legal and lawful son and heir. This declaration is made with the full knowledge and consent of said ward, Jason Peter Todd.

Under that was a place for Bruce to sign his name. A place for Jason, the witnesses, legal representation, the judge and lastly, the district clark.

Bruce finished writing his name and slid the document over to Jason, who nervously took the pen. He'd, of course, written his name before, but he'd never had to write it for something so important. The pen made a loud scratching sound in that quiet room as it was dragged across the thick piece of paper. The second Jason finished the last 'd' he felt like a weight had been lifted off of him that he hadn't even know he'd been carrying. It was official. He was Bruce's son. He had a dad, a real dad. Not some drunk that was going to come home and beat him. A real father. He never had to worry about where he was going to sleep, what he was going to eat, or how he was going to take care of himself. He felt safe and like he was a part of something. He was finally part of a family that loved and wanted him.

The other people quickly signed, and then it was over with. It had happened so fast for something that had taken months to accomplish. They walked out of the office and were standing in the large hallway.

"So what do you say we celebrate?" Bruce suggested. His voice was filled with a joyful tone. He had wanted this for so long, and now it had finally happened. Jay was legally his son. He was out of the foster system.

Without warning Jason turned and wrapped his arms around Bruce. "Thank you." Batman had saved his life, and Bruce had given him a family. All the fear, anger and pain were over.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my story. I hope you've all enjoyed reading it as much I have enjoyed writing it. :)


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